


Live Forever

by PetrificusSomewhatus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, GIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrificusSomewhatus/pseuds/PetrificusSomewhatus
Summary: The summer after Harry's fourth year would have been much better if just one person in his life had disregarded Professor Dumbledore's instructions to ignore him. And if that person was Hermione Granger? It would have been much, much better.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 40
Kudos: 153





	1. Live Forever

**Author's Note:**

> All hail COVID-19, giver of massive amounts of free time and taker of televised sports and other entertainment options to fill up said free time...resulting in the free time being filled up by writing random HP One Shots.

_We see things they'll never see..._

**July 4, 1995**

It had only been three days since Harry had returned to Privet Drive but the boring routine that he imagined he'd be following for the foreseeable future had already been established; Wake up early to pay for the Daily Prophet, scan for any news of Voldemort, wait for his Aunt Petunia to bang on his door and inform him of his chores for the day, complete said chores as efficiently and quietly possible, hide in his room or wander around Little Whinging for the remainder of the day, rinse and repeat.

The letter he'd received from Ron the prior day had been a welcome but ultimately frustrating break from the monotony as he was extremely vague about where he was and what he was doing. All he knew was he wasn't at the Burrow and that he was with _other people_ doing _things_. As he sat in his rickety bedroom chair and idly played with the practice snitch he'd received last Christmas he wished he could be with other people doing things.

His early afternoon routine of hiding from his relatives was broken by the rather loud and forceful tone of his Aunt Petunia coming from downstairs…which was odd. His Aunt did her best to be as quiet and _normal_ whenever possible. The only time she raised her voice was when something or someone magical-

Oh shit.

He quickly bounded out of the room and peered down the steps to see what was going on. His 'family' had been relatively pleasant so far and he didn't want his peaceful brooding to be ruined unless it was for something good like getting rescued from his prison or one of his-

"Hermione?" he asked dumbly as he saw his best friend calmly waiting for his Aunt to stop complaining about her presence.

"Harry!" she exclaimed happily as she spotted him at the top of the stairs.

"What's going on? What's happened?" he asked, instinctively fearing the worst.

"Nothing," she answered casually, "just wanted to pay a visit. I hope that's okay." He could tell she was quelling her typical enthusiasm and doing her best to act as _normal_ as possible.

"It most certainly is not-"

"Brilliant!" he blurted enthusiastically, cutting off his Aunt before she could build up a head of steam. Hermione's answering smile was instantly his favorite moment of the summer.

He quickly returned to his room and grabbed his shoes, throwing them on as best as he could while stumbling his way downstairs, not wanting to subject Hermione to his Aunt for any longer than necessary.

"I was wondering if I could use your telephone?" she asked once he'd reached her and she'd given him a muted version of her typical hug. "I promised my parents I'd let them know when I'd arrived safely."

"Absolutely not!" his Aunt replied. "I won't have _you_ people messing about with our-"

"Her parents are mugg- not magical, Aunt Petunia. They're dentists," he informed casually. "Hermione just wants to call her parents like normal people do. The sooner you let her do it the sooner we will leave."

He knew he'd said the magic words as his Aunt pinched her face in discomfort and quickly nodded before stepping aside.

"It's just through there on the wall," he supplied as he pointed toward the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," Hermione answered as normally as possible before walking normally into the other room to make her normal phone call to her normal parents.

Harry silently cheered. There was no need to provoke his Aunt if it wasn't absolutely necessary and if Hermione could pay a visit without blowing up the house or giving Dudley an extra appendage she might be allowed to come back without his Uncle pulling out the shotgun.

"She can't stay here," his Aunt spit out, "Vernon would be furious if he knew. And you'll be paying us back for any charges for her call…"

He fought back the urge to grin. "Thanks Aunt Petunia," he muttered as Hermione walked back normally from the kitchen.

"See you later," he called, pulling Hermione calmly and quietly out the door. He wondered if his Aunt had been disappointed that she hadn't been able to get properly bothered by him or his friend.

They'd made it two houses down before he burst out laughing while Hermione looked furious.

"She's awful," Hermione exclaimed, fighting back at the grin that was stubbornly trying to peek through her rage.

"You've no idea," Harry offered before calming. "Is everything really okay?"

"Yes. No. I'm not sure," she mumbled, looking thoroughly irritated.

"Well that settles it," he joked, instantly regretting it as he realized that Hermione was genuinely troubled.

"What is it?" he prodded.

"Have you eaten?" she asked. "Is there anywhere nearby to eat? There are a few options near the tube station but that's a twenty minute walk…"

"There is a shopping area a few blocks away from here," he offered, gesturing to his left. "But I don't have any muggle money-"

"Great!" she exclaimed as she grabbed his hand once again and pulled him toward where he had pointed. "And don't worry about paying…it's my treat."

After their food had arrived Harry broached the topic once again.

"What's going on, Hermione? Is everything really all right?"

"Everything is fine, Harry," she answered with a sigh. "Really…it's just…the headmaster stopped by my house the other day-"

He immediately tensed.

"Everything. Is. Fine," she repeated as she reached over and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

"He invited me to join the Weasleys for the summer…they're apparently staying with Sirius somewhere."

"Are you going on holiday with your parents?" he asked. He quickly squashed down the urge to feel sorry for himself at not receiving such an offer.

"No, they are planning a trip to Italy in a few weeks but I'm staying in England," she answered.

"Then I don't understand-"

"He asked me not to tell you anything about what we'd be doing there or where we were. That it wouldn't be safe and there was a risk that our letters could be intercepted."

Ron's letter made sense now. Apparently he was following Dumbledore's instructions. His annoyance at his friend and the headmaster was interrupted by the realization that his other friend was still talking.

"I asked him when you would be joining us and he said he didn't know. Then I asked him why we couldn't send you letters through muggle post or have a house elf deliver them and he said it was a bad idea and I needed to trust him."

She stopped to take a bite of her food before continuing. "I decided I'd stay with my parents instead and visit you every week."

Harry fought the urge to climb over the table and wrap his friend in a hug once again. "Do they know you're here?"

"It's none of their business is it?" she answered. "I'm allowed to ride the tube and visit my friend while he's stuck living with his awful relatives. And you're allowed to spend the day with your _amazing_ and considerate friend."

"I'll go to this _super secret hideout_ when you get to go," she continued, the fierceness evident in his voice. "Until then I plan on visiting you every Tuesday if that's all right. I would do it more often but it takes over an hour to get here and mum and dad are worried about me making such a long trip…"

It was more than all right. It was everything.

**July 11, 1995**

Harry had struck a deal with his Aunt. If he met Hermione somewhere else beside Privet Drive and they stayed away from the house he would be excused from chores every Tuesday. He'd sent Hedwig off with a message to meet him at the pizza place in the same area they'd visited last week. As happy as he was to see his friend again it was obvious something was bothering her.

"It's nothing, Harry," she quickly mumbled before asking what toppings he preferred.

"Pepperoni and mushroom," he quickly replied, "now tell me what's wrong."

"Professor Lupin paid me a visit last Wednesday…"

Harry immediately knew where this was heading. "Go on," he prodded as calmly as he could manage.

"The headmaster sent him," she began uncomfortably. "They knew I had visited you and asked me not to do it again. They said it wasn't safe….that if someone knew where I lived they could follow me and track me to your location."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I ignored his advice, _obviously_ ," she muttered, attempting to glare at him but failing as a smirk stubbornly broke through. She tried to hide it by looking down at her menu…but he saw it.

Harry laughed and was struck with an idea. He pulled out the invisibility cloak he'd brought along and placed it on her lap under the table.

"Harry, what is- I can't take that," she gasped.

"Dumbledore said Privet Drive is the safest place for me so I reckon I don't need it while I'm here. You'll be able to leave your house without anyone knowing…you can even use it sneak on the tube if you want to."

"I don't know," she said worriedly.

"Spending the day with you last Tuesday was the best time I've had in…forever," Harry admitted honestly. "And knowing I'd get to do it again today made the entire week tolerable."

"Really?" Hermione asked. It was clear that his admission had taken her off guard.

"Really," he replied unthinkingly.

"Thank you…and me too," she mumbled as she bowed her head and stowed the cloak away in her bag.

They placed their order (pepperoni and mushrooms) and ate in relative silence before Hermione became serious once again. She looked very determined and Harry braced himself.

"What shoe size do you wear?" she asked inexplicably.

"Seven…I think. Why?"

"Once we finish lunch we're going to get you some new trainers," she informed.

"What? No. You're already paying for lunch. And the ones I have are fine. You don't need-"

"The ones you are wearing are barely holding together. This will go a lot more smoothly if you stop being so stubborn-"

"You're the one being stubborn," he protested, cringing at how stupid he sounded.

She rolled her eyes at his feeble response. He knew that he should be annoyed but he couldn't quite manage it.

"It wasn't even my idea," she replied casually, grabbing another slice. "I mentioned to Mum what bad shape your old ones were in and she insisted. So if you want to blame anyone you should blame her. Besides, you've given me a priceless magical artifact…the least I can do is buy you a pair of trainers as thanks…but only because Mum said to…"

She looked so pleased with herself as she bit into her food. Once again the thought occurred to him that her smugness should be bothering him but it actually was making him…happier? He did his best to hide that fact but based on Hermione's look of triumph he knew he was doing a poor job of it.

"Fine," he grumbled falsely, "but I can pay for it. I don't have much muggle money but I've got some galleons in my room. I'll pay you back next week."

"Sounds good," she replied, barely suppressing a laugh. He idly thought about how pretty her smile was. He knew it was thoroughly shallow of him to think it but she truly did look better with her smaller teeth.

They returned to eating in companionable silence as Hermione quietly basked in her victory. He found himself nodding along to a particularly catchy song.

"Oh please," Hermione mumbled in annoyance, "not you to."

"Not me what?"

"Don't tell me you like Oasis," she pleaded.

"What's an Oasis?" he asked, now thoroughly confused.

"The song you were bopping along to?"

"I wasn't _bopping_ ," he protested. "Besides, it's catchy. Is it called Oasis?"

Hermione's eye's boggled.

"You've never heard of the band Oasis?" she asked in indignation. "It's all they played on the radio last summer. I thought they would have died down a bit by now but they seem to be more popular than ever. Their music is fine I suppose but I've heard it so much at this point…and they're always in the news for being idiots. You've honestly never heard this song?" she repeated disbelievingly.

He was suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't really get a chance to listen to music," he mumbled, staring at his food. "I actually have a portable radio…it belonged to Dudley before he broke it and I managed to get it working again a few years ago. But my Uncle would get mad if he ever heard me playing it and then the batteries ran out anyway…"

He chanced a glance at Hermione and realized that she was now furious. Whether she was furious at the Dursleys or herself for forgetting how sheltered he'd been he wasn't sure. Probably a mixture of both. Either way it wasn't her fault.

"It's not a big deal," he mumbled awkwardly. "It's just a song."

"That's not the point. It's not fair that-" She stopped suddenly and forced herself to calm down.

"I think it's called _Live Forever._ "

**July 18, 1995**

Harry insisted that they meet near the tube station next week to save Hermione a bit of time walking. She said that it wasn't a problem…that the long trip was worth it to spend time with him…and he believed her. But she smiled softly when she agreed to his compromise and he knew he had done the right thing.

They'd chosen an Indian restaurant this week. He'd never had curry and Hermione couldn't stop raving about it so it was an easy choice. He had no clue what to get so he simply said "I'll have the same" after Hermione ordered. The smile it garnered made it worth it even if it turned out to be wretched.

"Here is the money I owe you," he informed as they waited for their food, feeling very proud of himself for not letting her get away with paying for his trainers. He'd made a point of looking up the current exchange rate in the financial section of that morning's _Daily Prophet_ to make sure he paid back the full amount due.

His satisfaction at a job well done was short lived however as he noticed that Hermione looked exceedingly pleased with herself. She pulled a shopping bag out of the larger than normal purse she had brought with her and slid it across the table.

"What did you do?" he asked, realizing she'd one upped him once again.

"I didn't do anything," she proclaimed innocently. "It was Dad…"

Harry rolled his eyes as he examined the contents of the bag. It was a portable music player and headphones similar to the ones he'd seen Dudley use along with a few cd's and a _lot_ of batteries. Before he could protest Hermione continued on.

"I told Dad you never had the chance to listen to much popular music and he insisted that we get that for you," she droned on insincerely. She wasn't even trying to properly lie at this point. It was a bit insulting.

"Your dad insisted. Right," he smirked.

"There's a bit of all his favorites in there," she continued on pleasantly. "The Rolling Stones…Pink Floyd…Led Zeppelin…Queen-"

"Oasis," he mumbled with a smile as he stared at the case. He thought they looked cool and disinterested…like proper rock stars.

"I picked that one out," she interjected softly.

"I thought you didn't like them," he laughed.

"I said they were overplayed…I never said I didn't like them," she replied. At his raised eyebrow she came clean.

"Okay, _fine_. I don't like them. At all. But that doesn't matter as long as you like it."

"Thank you," he replied sincerely…wanting to say more but suddenly unable to do so.

"Any more visitors this week?" he asked, purposely changing the subject as he carefully stowed his gifts away.

"No visitors but I did receive a letter from the headmaster," she grumbled. "He is very disappointed in my decision to ignore his advice and once again invited me to join him at the super secret place."

"What did you say?" he prompted, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it out loud.

"I told him I was still planning on joining everyone once you were there as well," she replied. "I haven't heard back."

As their food arrived she continued on. " _Ronald_ sent two letters as well. He's very annoyed with me at the moment. Apparently he's bored out of his mind doing whatever they are doing wherever they are doing it and insisted that I come and be bored with them."

Harry felt a twinge of irritation as he thought of Hermione and Ron being alone together. He did his best to ignore it.

"He keeps apologizing for not being able to tell me anything," Harry said. "I think he is worried that I'm upset. I haven't had the heart to tell him he sounds more annoyed than me."

Hermione laughed.

He watched as Hermione dug into her food and caught a breath as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "This is _so_ good," she mumbled in pleasure.

Harry dumbly took a bite as he watched Hermione continue to dig in voraciously. He never knew watching someone eat could be so…intoxicating.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a burning sensation in his mouth that grew exponentially in intensity. He began coughing loudly and quickly gulped down his glass of water in a feeble attempt at holding back the onslaught.

Hermione smiled but kept eating, sliding her water glass toward him once his was empty. "Did I forget to tell you it was spicy?"

**July 25, 1995**

It was McDonald's this week. They had passed one last week as they were making their way to a nearby park and he'd commented absently that he'd never had it. Hermione insisted that they would remedy that important life omission on her next visit.

She had suggested he try a Big Mac knowing how much he disliked ketchup…another casual comment he had made a long time ago that she never forgot. It was good…the special sauce was different and nothing at all like the tomato sauce he despised.

"Professor McGonagall stopped by yesterday," she began.

Harry whistled in acknowledgement. "They're pulling out the big guns now," he joked, drawing a laugh from Hermione as she dipped her fry in mayonnaise. He knew she liked ketchup on sandwiches but not on chips.

"She told me that you would most likely be going to the super secret place soon and _suggested_ I go there and wait for you to arrive. When I refused she insisted that I stop visiting you. When that didn't work she tried convincing my parents."

He must have looked supremely annoyed because Hermione's expression immediately softened and she placed a calming hand on his arm. "They told her off and sent her on her way, Harry. I've told them a bit about your relatives and what you've had to put up with–

Oh don't give me that look," she admonished at his frown, "you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I swear Mum is ready to adopt you at this point.

Anyway…they told her who I choose to visit during the summer was none of her business and that they'd never seen me so-"

Whatever she was about to say must have been embarrassing because her face reddened and her food suddenly became very fascinating. He had an idea what she was about to admit…at least he hoped so.

"It's been the best summer I can remember," he mumbled as he idly stared at the sesame seeds on his sandwich.

**July 31, 1995**

They'd revised their schedule and met on Monday in honor of Harry's birthday. To his surprise Hermione wasn't alone at the tube station as her parents had insisted on coming along. They'd gone to a chain restaurant that Hermione's father had picked out solely based on the embarrassing song the wait staff performed for any unfortunate customer dumb enough to show up on their birthday. It was awful and he hated being the center of attention. It was also, by far, the best birthday meal he'd ever had.

It became clear that the Grangers were using his birthday as a way to help out with his abominable wardrobe without embarrassing him. It was nothing fancy…a few jumpers…a few pairs of jeans…even some underwear and socks. No shoes though…they'd already helped out with those. He realized he must have looked particularly pathetic when he started opening the multiple presents as Hermione and her mother seemed to be having a contest to see who could pretend _not_ to cry the best. They were both very bad at it but he appreciated the effort.

He'd had such a good time he had temporarily forgotten about where he had to return to that night. What he needed to do was truly embarrassing but there was nothing for it. He refused to let Hermione and her parents' generosity go to waste. Instead of being dropped off at Privet Drive he directed them to the nearby park. As Hermione's father opened the boot to take out Harry's presents he stopped him.

"Would it be okay if you took my gifts with you tonight and let Hermione give them back to me at Hogwarts?" he asked quietly so only Mr. Granger could hear. "I know it's mental but my relatives get angry about the dumbest things. If they see me wearing all new clothes it will just lead to problems."

The explanation sounded so stupid coming out of his mouth but Mr. Granger didn't act like it was stupid. He just nodded and pulled out one box before closing the boot back up.

"You'll never hear the end of it if you don't start using the planner Hermione bought you as soon as humanly possible," he joked as he handed it over. "Thanks for letting us spend your birthday with you, son."

Harry felt like he should hug the man…he thought he wanted to…but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to. He settled for a nod and mumbled "Thank you, Mr. Granger."

He watched him get back in the car and mutter something to Mrs. Granger…most likely relaying Harry's idiotic request. He imagined Mrs. Granger was glaring like Hermione did when she was angry.

As he stared at the planner he heard a car door opening and Hermione was quickly back by his side. "Dad said they would wait here while I walked you back. It's only a couple of blocks, right?"

Harry nodded and grabbed her hand. He'd wanted to do it for awhile but had been scared she'd laugh at him if he tried…which was stupid because Hermione would never laugh at him. He'd done some truly idiotic things over the years and she never laughed.

Apparently she didn't mind as she seemed to be doing her best to walk as close to him as possible…much closer than normal. Harry found that the slower he walked the easier it was to stay close to Hermione.

As #4 came into view he stopped. "I should probably go alone the rest of the way. Uncle Vernon will be home from work by now and he'll probably get upset if he sees you."

"I've one more thing to give you," Hermione said quietly as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. It didn't last long…they were standing in the middle of the street with her parents waiting a block away after all…but it was brilliant. And if he had any say in the matter it was the first of many.

She grabbed him in a hug and buried her face in his chest. He wasn't positive but he thought she was _smelling_ him. Whatever she was doing it was clearly something enjoyable as she seemed to be trying to burrow in as much as possible.

"I guess I'll see you next Tuesday," she finally mumbled, making no effort to move away.

"Next Tuesday," he repeated, tightening his grip just a bit.

They eventually heard a car horn and reluctantly pulled away from each other. Harry guessed that Mr. Granger was laughing and Mrs. Granger was slapping him on the shoulder for being such an idiot.

**August 3, 1995**

It was two in the morning but Harry was wide awake. He should have known his relatively non-miserable summer had been too good to be true. He'd done everything he'd been instructed to do. He hadn't done anything rash…stayed at home most days and didn't even complain how everyone but Hermione was ignoring him. And look what his efforts had gotten him…attacked by dementors…expelled from school…then not expelled _maybe_ …then condescending and infuriating notes telling him to be a good boy and stay inside…all capped by that cryptic Howler. He was fairly positive it was from Dumbledore. Nobody else would ever be that vague and nonspecific for absolutely no reason.

He absently punched the wall in frustration. In truth he didn't really care to hear from the headmaster any more…he'd had his chance…loads of them…to do the right thing. He just wanted to see Hermione. _His_ Hermione. He wasn't even able to send her a note as Hedwig had been out hunting and his Aunt had refused to let him use the phone.

And then it happened. The rapid and repeated ringing of the doorbell. Harry wasn't quite sure how they were managing it but they simultaneously began knocking loudly on the door as well. He sprinted down the steps…ignoring his Uncle's rantings about his freaky friends not having any common courtesy.

He thrust the door open and was assaulted by a blurry, chestnut haired missile. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she mumbled frantically into his chest.

"It was touch and go for a moment but yeah…I'm okay," he reassured as he inhaled her lavender shampoo, instantly calming. It occurred to him that Hermione may have been onto something with the whole smelling thing.

He heard a throat clearing and noticed a bleary eyed set of parents staring at him.

"We brought chocolate," Mr. Granger informed as he held up the multiple packages of sweets in his hands. "Could you do me a favor and eat some? It was a wrench finding somewhere open this late and I'd like to at least pretend the effort was worth it."

Harry grabbed the piece of chocolate offered over Hermione's shoulder and popped it in his mouth. "Much better," he enthused, drawing an appreciative grin from the man. Between the chocolate, the smell of lavender shampoo, and Hermione, he was now most definitely okay.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Ron sent a note telling me what happened," she said into his chest.

"Hermione was meant to stay put and wait for further instructions so naturally she woke us up and demanded we drive over here immediately," Mrs. Granger supplied warmly.

Harry noticed that the Grangers attention had been drawn to an area above his shoulder and realized that by some miracle his relatives had remained quiet. He looked back and confirmed that they were indeed standing on the steps and were most definitely silently fuming.

"These are the Grangers," he introduced. "They're dentists."

He felt Hermione chuckle into his chest followed by a muffled "you are such an idiot." She didn't let go.

"Well they are!" he defended before leaning in and speaking so only she could hear. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for being okay," she muttered before pulling back. "Now grab your things. You're coming with us." It wasn't a request.

"I'm meant to stay here," he informed half heartedly.

"And Hermione was meant to stay away. You saw how that worked out," Mr. Granger commented.

"What do _you_ want to do?" Hermione's mother asked kindly. He could tell by her tone that she was more than willing to take the risk if he wanted to go with them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been asked his opinion on something and been properly _listened_ to. Except for Hermione. She always seemed to be the exception.

As much as he wanted to leave he didn't feel comfortable putting these people…this family…at risk. He was all set to gracefully decline the option when he realized how nice it was to suddenly have options. Even if an option wasn't going to be taken it could be _leveraged_.

He moved beside Mrs. Granger and leaned in, speaking in a whisper. "Could you stay for thirty minutes? I have an idea."

At her curious nod he walked outside to the front porch. Before he could speak he was interrupted by his Uncle.

"It's the middle of the sodding night!" he grumbled. "Do not wake up the neighborhood!"

Harry turned, responding in a loud whisper. "Do you want me out of here or not?"

Once again it appeared that he had said the magic words as his Uncle angrily nodded for him to continue.

He began speaking to the front lawn in a purposely loud voice. "Whoever is spying on me has thirty minutes to take me to the super secret place or I'm leaving with the Grangers."

Within seconds he heard a loud crack. He had no clue what it signified but it was definitely magical. The next thirty minutes were going to be very interesting. He guessed Sirius would find it very amusing and be congratulating him very shortly.

He walked back inside and grabbed the hand of his now smiling girlfriend. It was clear that she was pleased with his cleverness as well.

"If they don't show up your coming with us," she informed as they took a seat on the couch. As the Grangers moved to sit Harry could tell his Uncle was about to explode.

"Thirty more minutes and all your problems go away, Uncle Vernon. Besides, _they're_ _dentists_."

While Mrs. Granger appeared to be trying to vaporize his relatives with her eyes Mr. Granger looked highly amused. He shot them a wink before addressing his uncle.

"Chocolate?"


	2. Cigarettes and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Sirius' perspective and takes place over the same days as the first chapter. It was very kind of the Order to schedule their meetings on the same day as Hermione and Harry's dates.

_I was looking for some action, but all I found are cigarettes and alcohol..._

**July 4, 1995**

Sirius Black groaned in pain as he sat up and the fog began to clear from the events of last night. Actually it was only one event that preyed on his mind…leading to the copious amounts of alcohol being ingested…leading to this pain.

The letter had been shit. He'd written over ten versions…some short and sweet…some long and detailed, doing everything but explaining why they'd stuck him back with that bitch and her whale of a husband. They'd all been ridiculously vague, all included the same stupid instructions, and all condemned his godson to deal with his own demons until _sometime real soon! We promise!_

It was all shit.

He forced himself to stand and get dressed because now that he had _guests_ in the house he had to put on actual clothes while he brooded. And it was an Order meeting day so he had to wear proper ones as well…not the muggle t-shirts and jeans he preferred. It was bad enough having to listen to Snape's gloating comments about how much he was doing on behalf of the Order and how little Sirius' efforts amounted to while he lazed about the house. His slovenly clothes would only serve as confirmation of the greasy bastard's snide remarks.

He spotted Molly as he began heading down the steps and fought the urge to flee. He liked the woman but she insisted on sharing her plans for the day in a rather loud voice. Normally he could nod his way through her explicit explanation of every cabinet and nook to be scrubbed but the pounding in his head was going to make it exceedingly difficult.

"We've been working on the sitting room tod-" she began automatically before Sirius raised a hand and quickly descended the stairs with a "sounds good, Molly." He could practically _feel_ the look of disapproval on the woman's face and he had to agree. He was pathetic.

He entered the kitchen and grabbed the porridge that Molly had left for him and dug in…hoping that filling his body with something non-toxic would help make the awfulness go away. As he ate in silence he idly wished for the thousandth time that Lily was there. She was really excellent at hangover potions and was usually kind enough to deliver her lectures quietly. Unless he included James in his nonsense…then the volume levels were off the charts.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as the twins popped into sight.

"Not today lads," he mumbled as he shoveled more food into his mouth. The room was entirely too bright.

"You know when he said he was going to get smashed I didn't think he'd look quite this _mass murdery_ afterward," George observed gleefully, reveling in his misery.

"Is there something I can help you with boys?" he gritted out as he placed his wand on the table in warning. He'd taken an instant liking to the two when they'd showed up on Saturday but now was _not_ the time.

"Sirius my friend, it's not how you can help us, it's how _we_ can help _you_."

As awful as he felt he was intrigued. "I'm listening."

Fred took a seat beside him and pulled out a vial. "The cure to all your misery lies within this flask."

He knew it was too good to be true…these little shits wouldn't offer this without there being a catch. He knew this because he would have done the same thing when he was a little shit.

"Cut to the chase, Fred," he muttered, wanting to get the nonsense over with as soon as possible.

"Sirius you wound me. Besides, I'm George."

"No you're not, _Fred_. Now tell what the catch is."

"How did you kn- never mind," Fred grumbled before continuing. "Besides curing your hangover there is another effect that is meant to be a surprise."

He looked so pleased and obnoxious. Did he look that pleased and obnoxious when he was that young? Probably.

"Trying to corner the market on angry wives I see."

The twins beamed.

Sirius eyed them in consideration. Is it going to hurt?"

"No."

"Turn me into a witch?"

"No, but we're working on that one. We've got the top part sorted out but the other half is a work in process. We're always looking for volun-"

"Will I be able to fit through the door?" he interrupted.

At the twins inquiring look he explained. "I'd like to make sure I can use the loo."

"Very practical." George laughed. "Yes,"

"Will it wear off by the meeting tonight?

"Yes. It will only last four ho-"

Fred's explanation was stopped abruptly as Sirius grabbed the vial and downed the contents in one gulp, sighing as the awfulness ebbed away. He really loved magic.

He realized his entire body had been turned a rather violent shade of purple, including his hair. Sirius pulled out his waistband and looked down to confirm that the carpet did indeed match the curtains.

"Very thorough," he complimented before returning back to his meal.

"You're meant to be annoyed and embarrassed," George commented, clearly disappointed at his muted reaction.

He shrugged and kept eating.

"It's like pranking an older, uglier version of us," Fred lamented as they skulked out of the room.

* * *

Sirius shrugged into _his_ chair at the far end of the table…as far away as possible from the people discussing the _important_ things they'd been up to. He was only here for two reasons; to hear how Harry was doing and make the entire room feel as guilty as possible at how the boy was being treated. If he was going to drown in self pity he was damn sure going to take as many people down with him.

"Hiya cousin," Nymphadora Tonks said pleasantly as she took a seat beside him.

"'Lo, Tonks," he mumbled…not in the mood to aggravate her about her first name. He just wanted to hear about Harry.

"Still feeling sorry for yourself I see," she observed as she patted him on the shoulder.

"If you're going to be a bell-end there is plenty of room at the other end of the table with the other bell-ends," he muttered.

She snorted a laugh, annoying Sirius even further. Didn't she understand that it was crucial for him to be miserable?

"Aww…poor Sirius," she consoled insincerely before leaning over and speaking in a lower voice. "I promise my report will lift your spirits."

"He's doing better?" he asked, instantly brightening.

She didn't get a chance to answer as the meeting was called to order but her wink and smirk portended good things to come.

After fifteen minutes of Dumbledore's bluster and Snape's annoying posturing they got to the part Sirius cared about.

"And how is the situation at Privet Drive?" Dumbledore asked.

"He worked in the yard all day yesterday," Hestia informed, "seemed right miserable to me." The others who had watched over Harry murmured they had experienced something similar.

Dumbledore nodded his head gravely, seemingly saddened at the disheartening news. Sirius fought the urge to punch him.

"He had a visitor today," Tonks interjected brightly. Dumbledore immediately came to attention and Molly began gripping the table so tightly she looked to be carving into it with her nails.

"It was a girl about his age…lots of hair," Tonks continued on as her own hair transformed into a brown bushy mass, "I didn't catch her name but I did overhear Harry say that her parents were dentists."

 _Atta girl, Hermione,_ Sirius mused, his heart instantly lightening.

"That would be Miss Granger," the headmaster informed the room. "She is a good friend of Harry's. I invited her to stay here over the summer break but she declined."

It was not lost on Sirius that the man seemed more bothered by Hermione's appearance at Privet Drive than he'd been at Harry's misery. He glanced at Snape and silently cheered at the annoyed sneer on his face. He'd missed it.

"Go on," Dumbledore prompted.

"There wasn't much to it," she continued on casually. "They had lunch then walked around together for a few hours. He showed her the local library and they sat in the park for a bit."

"What did they talk about? What were they planning?" Moody interjected forcefully.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Seeing as they seemed to be on a date it didn't seem appropriate to try and listen in Moody."

It may have been his imagination but Sirius thought he heard a muffled shout coming from upstairs.

Moody grunted a few words, clearly annoyed. He couldn't quite make it out but Sirius thought he mumbled something about hormones.

"I did notice she gave half of her sandwich to Harry to take with him so it looks like they aren't feeding him well again," she added.

Molly tutted and glared daggers at Dumbledore. He ignored it.

"What makes you think it was a date?" Molly asked.

"All the smiling and talking? The massive hug she gave him when she left?"

"I believe they are only friends," McGonagall interjected, looking pleased at the development.

"If you say so," Tonks shrugged. "All I know is Harry looked much happier than what I saw on Sunday."

"Thank you," Dumbledore interjected, ending the discussion. "As much as I would like for Miss Granger to continue visiting Harry I'm afraid it risks both their safety."

It looked to Sirius that there were an equal amount of people nodding in agreement and shaking their heads in disagreement. Dumbledore ignored them all.

"Remus, could you pay Miss Granger a visit and counsel her on refraining from visiting Harry any further."

"Why me?" Remus asked in surprise and annoyance. He had been one of the folks shaking his head.

"Hermione respects you as a teacher," Sirius muttered bitterly. "He wants you to leverage that respect and exaggerate the danger so she'll betray her friend."

He made a mental note to talk with Remus after the meeting about casting some protective enchantments on the Granger house while he was there. Hermione deserved whatever help they could offer seeing as she seemed to be the only one willing to stick out her neck and truly help Harry.

"Sirius," Molly admonished, uncomfortable at the reprimand.

"It is all right, Molly. We are all worried about young Harry," Dumbledore answered kindly. Sirius _really_ wanted to punch him.

"Don't you have a liquor cabinet to empty?" Snape added for no apparent reason.

"I'm right where I want to be," Sirius answered, a bit of his fire returning. "I for one am happy to know Harry has such a good muggleborn friend. And I know he won't fuck it up by calling her a mudblood."

"Sirius," Dumbledore warned. He ignored him.

"I'd hate to see Harry wasting decades being a miserable prick and obsessing over how he destroyed the one genuinely good thing in his life while she moved on to _much_ greener pastures."

He watched Snape grip his wand and begin to rise from his chair before Dumbledore forcefully pulled him back. Half of the room look confused while the other half seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh.

Sirius sat back in his chair and shot a wink at his now smirking cousin. This had turned out to be a tremendously productive meeting.

**July 11, 1995**

He'd arrived early tonight, clear eyed and focused. Having a fifteen year old schoolgirl standing up for Harry had made it tremendously difficult for him to justify drowning his sorrows in drink. He'd even trimmed his beard that morning so he would be looking particularly fresh and well groomed in order to annoy Snape.

It seemed that his perpetual bad mood had transferred to Ron Weasley, however. The boy seemed to be stomping throughout his mother's list of chores and mealtimes…rarely speaking and looking thoroughly annoyed. Ginny seemed to be a bit forlorn as well.

As usual his cousin was the final person to arrive. She must have stumbled on something in her rush to get there on time as she nearly fell into her chair before quickly recovering.

"You found the shower!" she exclaimed happily.

He ignored the jibe, eager to find out about Harry. "Any more visits?" he asked.

She smiled and waggled her eyebrows as Dumbledore started the meeting.

Fifteen minutes later they began the important bit. All of Harry's minders shared the same observation…that while he wasn't bursting with joy and sunshine his mood had lightened considerably. He was much less angry and merely seemed bored.

"Hermione paid him another visit today," Tonks sing songed and Sirius bathed in Dumbledore's aggravated expression.

"How lovely," Snape droned. "Let me guess, did he spend the afternoon braiding her hair?"

"No, unfortunately," Tonks lamented falsely, "but this time they had pizza!"

"Tell me that isn't all you observed," Moody nearly growled.

Tonks pulled out her notebook and pretended to consider it before she continued. "Oh no, I've got loads of interesting stuff this week. Let's see…the pizza toppings looked to be pepperoni and mushrooms…"

"Miss Tonks," Dumbledore attempted to interrupt.

"Harry had a coke while Hermione stuck with water."

"Nymphadora-"

"They had ice cream later. I couldn't make out the exact flavors but they both had something with chocolate. Hermione couldn't finish hers so she gave the rest to Harry-"

"Did you observe anything _important_ ," Dumbledore interjected more forcefully.

"Let me see…let me see…" Tonks continued calmly as she methodically reviewed her notes, "Oh right. I think Harry gave her his invisibility cloak."

The table erupted at the news. It was a mixture of outrage, confusion and, for Sirius, amusement. He barked out a laugh and pounded the table. James would be so proud.

After quieting the masses Dumbledore spoke. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," Tonks continued, now much more serious. "Dedalus was due to relieve me about the time that they split up so I followed Hermione to the tube station. I watched her go into the loo at the station but she never came out. I didn't think about it at the time but the door did open once by itself. I'd just assumed someone had opened the door and gone back for something they forgot. I think she went into the loo and put the cloak on in case anyone tried to follow her. And fair play to them because it worked."

"Well there you go," Sirius exclaimed in triumph. "No-one will be able to follow her to or from her home. Problem solved."

"This is just the sort of thing I was concerned would happen. It is important that Harry keep the cloak with him at all times," Dumbledore said disapprovingly.

Of course the man wouldn't give up. Sirius couldn't hold his tongue.

"Yeah, lending something like that out didn't do James and Lily much good did it?"

"I believe I will send Miss Granger another letter…" Dumbledore continued, ignoring Sirius altogether. Sirius fought the urge to laugh. There was no way that was going to work.

The meeting ended shortly after and Remus, Tonks and Bill stuck around at Sirius' urging for a few drinks. It tasted much better when you weren't doing it every night and you were with friends.

"Are you sure they aren't dating?" Tonks questioned as the conversation returned to the couple.

"I think Hermione would go for it in a heartbeat but Harry is clueless. He likes some girl named Cho. Why? What did they do?"

Tonks nodded at Sirius' statement…as if several pieces had fit into place. "I didn't bring it up at the meeting but after eating they bought Harry some new trainers."

"About time Harry started treating himself," Sirius grumbled. "Sod the Dursleys-"

"It was Hermione," Tonks interrupted, "she pretty much dragged him to the shop and paid for them herself. The way she was looking at him when he was trying them on…she's got it bad."

Sirius stared at the drink in his hand, remembering his escape at the hands of two incredible third year students. They were so young that he dismissed it at the time but the girl most definitely wore a similar look that night.

"Bill and I are going to stop by the Grangers' tomorrow evening…put up a few more enchantments," Remus offered.

"Good…thank you," Sirius replied, his heart lightening a bit. Despite the horrible decision they had all agreed to it was clear they all cared for Harry…and now Hermione. She was going to get a really nice birthday present.

"Maybe I could go as well," Sirius offered hopefully, wanting desperately to do something for the girl. "I've put a few additional protections on Grimmauld that-"

"Sirius," Remus interrupted kindly, "it isn't safe. We will do everything we can for her. I promise."

"Okay," he relented. "But lets review the spells before you leave tonight and you two can add them. Technically they're Black family spells but I like the idea of them being used to protect muggles."

Remus chuckled. "That means that we'll need to stay relatively sober."

"I'd be a bit of a bastard if I chose drink over Hermione and her family wouldn't I?" Sirius commented before pouring his last drink of the night. "We owe it to them."

Bill grinned. "Did we just form a new group? It feels like we formed a new group."

Sirius smiled. "I think we have."

"We need a name!" Tonks exclaimed as she began clapping her hands in excitement.

"The Granger Initiative Taskforce," Sirius proclaimed proudly.

"What the? That's an awful name," Bill said with a laugh.

"You just want to call it _GIT_ don't you?" Remus asked tiredly as he poured himself another drink.

"To GIT!" Tonks proclaimed, holding her drink up for a toast.

"To GIT!" Sirius repeated in a laugh.

Drinking was much better with friends.

**July 18, 1995**

Sirius was fighting the urge to bounce in his seat as he waited for the meeting to start. Based on Dumbledore's expression his follow up request had been a spectacular failure and he couldn't wait to hear all the details. Snape looked equally as enraged, most likely because he'd decided to dress exactly like him this week simply to annoy the man.

As usual Tonks arrived moments before the meeting was about to start, plopping down beside him with a graceless thud.

"Going for a different look tonight I see," she noted.

"It's...to annoy…Snape," he informed in his best monotone, purposely pausing and drawing out the last word and popping the 'p' just a bit.

"I sorted that out for myself," she replied, clearly amused. "The severe part in the middle of your hair is a nice touch."

"It's all in the details," he mentioned with a shrug. "I've been practicing my billowing all week."

Harry's minders continued to be pleased with Harry's attitude. He'd even whistled to himself while he strolled the neighborhood the day after Hermione's visit. Finally it was time for Tonks to speak.

"They went to an Indian place today," she began, ignoring the annoyed indignation on Moody's face.

"Is that it?" Moody barked.

"Hmm…whatever Harry had was spicy because at one point his face turned red and he had to drink both of their waters. Hermione seemed to find it-"

"You're a bloody _metamorphmagus_ ," he interrupted angrily. "Would it be too much to ask for you to sit near them and eavesdrop?"

"Yes, it would," she pushed back forcefully. "I signed up to protect Harry. Not spy on him during the only pleasant hours he has each week."

She turned her eyes to Dumbledore…looking at him accusingly before continuing.

"She brought him something else this week…a muggle device to play music. He had to hide it under his shirt when he went back to his house. Why would he have to do that? Those people are wretched."

"We are getting off topic," Dumbledore intervened. "Alastor does have a point, Nymphadora. Youngsters tend to be reckless. If they were making plans that put them at risk it would be good to-"

"No," she interrupted. "And I prefer to be called Tonks."

The headmaster nodded genially before leaning over and whispering something to McGonagall. Whatever it was did not please the woman at all. Her look of barely contained fury reminded him of what he had been faced with after his more idiotic adventures at Hogwarts. To see it directed at the Headmaster was very odd. Dumbledore, of course, ignored it.

The second meeting of GIT started soon thereafter. After recapping the last meeting ( _we've formed this sacred brother/sisterhood to protect Hermione Granger and her family…and also to drink)_ and inducting their newest member ( _The_ _Honorable_ _Arthur Weasley_ ) the meeting commenced. With no pending actions to discuss the drinking began.

"So tell me how this music device works again?" Arthur Weasley asked eagerly.

Tonks rolled her eyes and took a drink before starting her explanation again. "They sort of look like phonograph records but they're about half the size and they're shiny…like a mirror. That's to do with them being read by a laser instead of a needle."

"And what's a laser?" Arthur continued.

"I've no idea," Tonks answered as she poured herself another drink.

"You're sure there wasn't anything by The Beatles?" Sirius asked.

" _Yes_ , Sirius. I'm sure," Tonks answered, clearly annoyed at his persistent questioning. "Why are you so obsessed with a muggle group?"

"It wasn't me…it was James," he supplied, "Lily loved them so James loved them."

As he thought about his old friends he did his best to ignore the insistent prickling at the corners of his eyes. Merlin, he was such an emotional drunk.

And what's that other band," Bill asked. "Osayus?"

"Oasis," Tonks corrected through her chuckle. "They're newer. You'd like them, Sirius. They're proper idiots like you."

Sirius laughed as his mind drifted back to his younger days at James' house… listening to the Liverpudlians on repeat over the summer before seventh year simply because James overheard Lily gushing about them. _Additional summer assignments_ he had called it. He missed them so much that it ached.

Sirius resolved to dig out his old phonograph and muggle records. Maybe he and Harry could listen to them together if…no _when_ … he arrived.

**July 25, 1995**

That night's Order meeting had been relatively uneventful, save for Moody's exasperation at Tonks recounting that Hermione preferred mayonnaise on her chips. The true excitement came afterward with the induction of GIT's newest member.

"I call this meeting of the- can I help you with something Minnie?" Sirius asked hesitantly as the Hogwarts matriarch approached and leveled him with her best stare.

"I believe you can, Mr. Black," she began, pulling up a chair. "Would you know of any reason why Miss Granger's house was virtually saturated in magic? I counted no less than fifteen enchantments that had been cast."

"That's odd," Sirius commented innocently as he moved to take a drink. The glass never reached his mouth as it was forcefully stopped by a spell cast by the stern witch.

"How did you know?" Sirius eventually acquiesced. He'd never been able to stand up long under Minnie's interrogation.

To his surprise she didn't seem angry…at all.

"Despite being at the Granger's house several times over the years it was very difficult to find it this time. For some reason I kept walking right by it despite knowing exactly where it was," she observed, a smile poking through her stern façade.

"Yeah…that would be the compulsion charm I put up," Bill informed uncomfortably. "It's meant to compel anyone to keep walking if they have-"

"Ill intent," McGonagall completed his sentence, looking suitably ashamed.

Sirius fought the urge to go for his wand and _Obliviate_ the woman. If she had informed Albus of what they'd done he'd never forgive her.

He cursed himself for his damned rash instincts. He trusted Minnie. Hell, he trusted Albus even if he didn't always agree with his methods. Besides, by the look on her face she looked properly embarrassed at what she had tried to do. So his wand remained on the table and he waited. She eventually gathered herself and began speaking.

"The defensive and compulsion charms you've added are quite impressive but I'd feel more comfortable if we added at least a few alert spells as well. And I know of a charm that would disillusion them whenever they are within twenty feet of their property. They wouldn't notice it of course but any passersby wouldn't see them. And I'd like to talk to Filius-"

"Minnie," he interrupted, attempting his best to look serious, "you need to be inducted into the taskforce before we can proceed."

"Taskforce?" she asked, her left eyebrow threatening to break through the ceiling.

Arthur cleared his throat. "The Granger Initiative Taskforce," he informed, doing his best not to laugh.

He watched the matriarch's wheels spinning before her expression morphed into a frown. She'd obviously sorted out the reason behind their absolutely brilliant name.

"Only you, Black," she muttered, finally allowing herself to smile. Sirius felt a profound sort of victory.

"What ridiculous act is involved in this induction?" Minerva grumbled. "Do I need to wear my knickers on my head for an hour?"

"No, but that's not bad," Sirius replied, fully grinning now. "You just have to promise not to tell Albus and sit and drink with us."

She attempted to look stern but failed miserably and he knew he had her. As much as she was known as a stern enforcer of order the woman praised those with a full heart above all else.

"I'll be back in a few minutes with some _proper_ whisky."

**July 31, 1995**

It was just him and Tonks as it was a Monday and no Order meeting was scheduled for the evening. Tonks had switched shifts with Hestia on a hunch and was proven to be correct. Not only did Harry meet with Hermione that day in honor of his birthday…her parents had joined as well.

He laughed at Harry being subjected to what sounded like a truly horrible birthday song and fought the urge to be jealous of Hermione's father. He should have been the one embarrassing Harry. He had been a truly awful godfather to his truly exceptional godson.

Harry seemed to be happy in spite of him…not because of him… _never_ because of him. He felt selfish and petty and immature and all the other emotions associated with being so self absorbed. Thankfully the feeling was muted and overwhelmed by the fact that Harry had finally…finally…enjoyed a proper birthday. He made a note to find out all of the Grangers birthdays as they all deserved something special.

He was so busy stewing on Harry being afraid to take his presents back to the Dursleys that he nearly missed the next part. Three words…the best words.

"She kissed him," Tonks informed joyfully, losing herself in the memory.

"You should have seen them, Sirius," Tonks sighed wistfully, "it was lovely. I don't think I've ever been kissed like that. I felt like a proper idiot being jealous of a fifteen year old girl."

"It sounds like James and Lily," he mused, staring at his glass, "they were always different…special. Bloody annoying."

"Then Hermione's father had to ruin it by honking the car horn," Tonks muttered.

Sirius laughed. That sounded like something he would do.

**August 3, 1995**

It was past two in the morning but Sirius was still awake. He should have known that Harry's happy summer was too good to be true. Harry had done everything they had asked of him. He'd kept his head…been safe…heeded their stupid instructions…all so he could be protected in the safest way possible. What a crock of shit.

Dementors. Fucking _dementors_. Not for the first time he was amazed at his godson, but he realized he shouldn't have been. The boy had fought off a hundred dementors to save his life…two must have seemed like child's play. But the fact that Harry come through magnificently once again was beside the point.

Sirius paused to count how many times Harry had to deal with those foul creatures. Four…four _fucking_ times. They had all failed him on such a profound level.

He eyed the cabinet where the firewhisky was stored and desperately fought the urge to drown his feelings of sorrow and guilt toward Harry once again. He settled for soberly wallowing in his feelings of sorrow and guilt. It was much more difficult but exactly what he deserved.

He was broken out of his wallowing by someone entering the room in a near sprint. It was Bill.

"The Grangers just showed up at the Dursleys and Harry says we have thirty minutes to fetch him or he's leaving with them," Bill said in a rush.

Despite the seriousness of the situation he barked out a laugh. It was exactly what James…and Lily now that he thought about it…would have done.

"Who else knows?" he asked.

"I came here straightaway," Bill informed. "I reckon if I told Dumbledore he'd do everything he could to make him stay there and…it's not right Sirius. How we've been ignoring Harry isn't right."

The thing Sirius had been fighting against all summer…the urge to do something rash and impulsive…was stronger than ever. He'd fought it off successfully so far…remembering how badly succumbing to those urges had worked out the last time. But this felt different.

He thought about Hermione's parents…thoroughly vulnerable and defenseless against magic…but they had showed up at Harry's doorstep just the same despite the risk. For Harry.

"I'll contact Tonks. Go wake your dad and tell him what's going on and then head back to keep watch…and tell Molly not to blab to Dumbledore before we're back with Harry."

"Don't worry about Mum. She sent Dumbledore three Howlers before she went to bed," Bill informed with a grin as he headed for the staircase.

Sirius conjured the brightest patronus he'd ever managed and quickly sent it on its way before bounding up the steps. He needed to fetch his communication mirror and let Moony know what was going on.

Ten minutes later the group had assembled and was ready to head out on their mission. Tonks looked him over and quirked an eyebrow.

"Did you…fix your hair?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"Come to think of it those clothes are much nicer than what you had on earlier," Remus observed wryly.

"I've got to look my best for Harry's future in-laws don't I?" he protested. "Wouldn't want to embarrass him."

"Well I think you look very dashing," Tonks complimented falsely.

"Thank you, Tonks," he replied before sticking his tongue out at a now laughing Remus. He felt more alive than he had in years.

"Back to the task at hand," Arthur gently reminded.

Sirius nodded and took a calming breath. It was time to finally be irrational and impulsive for the right reasons. For Harry.

"Let's go get my godson."


	3. Half the World Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many chapters will I write before I stop considering this a one shot? At what point will I stop having it marked as complete? How many more character perspectives can I squeeze out of the same one month period? Dumbledore? Ron? The Giant Squid? Will I run out of appropriate Oasis songs to use as chapter titles? I have no idea. For now you will have to settle for the fascinating tale of David Granger and how he came to be driving to Little Whinging on the third of August at 2:00 am with a bag full of recently purchased chocolate bars.

_My body feels young but my mind is very old..._

**July 3, 1995**

David Granger sat in the family study and gazed idly out the window…patiently waiting as the progress bar crawled forward on the computer screen. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time…they _needed_ to bite the bullet and start managing the practice's books electronically and stop relying on the comforting manual ledgers that he had stubbornly clung to for too long. But as he sat and inserted installation disk _three_ of _eight_ , tapped the enter button, _again,_ and looked at the stubbornly slow progress bar, _again_ , he wished he could be anywhere else.

It was his fault really. Jane had volunteered to sort out getting the new computer equipment and he had volunteered to get the accounting and other miscellaneous software set up. It made sense…he managed the books after all. And with the practice closed for the next week it seemed like the perfect time to bite the bullet.

It hadn't even occurred to him that Jane had purposely waited until Hermione had returned from Hogwarts to help with her end of the bargain. All Jane had to do was pull out the credit card and put the damn thing in her car. Hermione had been bursting at the seams to set it up on their behalf the night prior. Jane was probably laughing her ass off at the supermarket right now.

Unfortunately Hermione didn't give two shits about boring software _Designed to Maximize the Efficiency and Integrity of your Business's Finances_ and was nowhere to be found. He'd hoped she would take pity on him but then Gandalf had shown up out of the blue and she'd practically sprinted out of the room to talk with him. They'd only had their daughter back for a few days before the wizards had started showing up and it pissed him off.

So here he was…stuck in the study, by himself, and staring at a progress bar in name only. Gandalf had left about fifteen minutes ago but Hermione still had not shown up to rescue him and he still had four other things…not things… _programs_ … to install.

As if on cue he heard the door opening. His wonderful daughter had finally come to rescue him. "Hermione, can you explain again what this one is meant to-"

The words died in his throat as he saw the look on her face

"What is it, Janey?" he asked, his troubles now forgotten.

"It's about Harry," she mumbled unsurprisingly as she sat in a nearby chair.

"What's happened?" he prompted, desperate for her to finally share something tangible about her friend.

It was clear from her first year on that she was hopelessly devoted to the boy. From what she had shared he sounded very brave…and humble…and selfless…and a bit broody. The only problem was Hermione never seemed to share the specifics behind her gushing. For a girl who praised facts and information above everything else such things were sorely lacking when it came to explaining her friend. He waited patiently and watched Hermione's wheels spinning, parsing out exactly what to share.

He missed the days when she blurted anything and everything that was on her mind in rapid and explicit detail…when _he_ was her best friend. Whether it was simply her age or the wizards that had caused her to be so reticent around them now was irrelevant. His old Hermione was long gone.

"I've been invited to stay with the Weasleys."

The new Hermione was short and sweet with her explanation, _again_ , and the wizards were trying to pull her away, _again_. He wanted to be properly furious but she looked so lost. It was the same way she looked after saying goodbye to Harry at King's Cross a few days prior.

His daughter had been all smiles in front of the boy but once she'd kissed his cheek and sent him off with his relatives this new awful look appeared. She'd done her best to put on a brave face whenever she spotted him looking at her in the rearview on the drive home…but the look kept stubbornly returning. It made her look so old…so weary. Fifteen year olds should never have to look that burdened.

"When were they thinking?"

"As soon as I'd like to go…"

He was all set to point out that she'd only been home for three days when she continued.

"They aren't sure when or if Harry will be able to join us so I said no. So how is it going with-"

"Forget the computer," he interrupted before she could change the subject. He was tired of her changing the subject. "Is Harry not being there what's causing you to look so miserable?"

"Not exactly…" she continued cryptically. "They said if I went that I wouldn't be able to tell Harry anything that was going on."

David waited. He desperately wanted her to _finally_ start saying more.

"It's not fair," Hermione finally blurted, "after everything that's happened Harry shouldn't be left alone and ignored. It's the last thing he needs…"

"He has his aunt and uncle," he offered hopefully.

She scoffed. "You saw them at the station. Did they look like they were happy to see him?"

Hermione was right…they had looked like they wished to be anywhere else and greeting _anyone_ else instead of their nephew. Jane had asked her about their frosty reception on the walk to the car but Hermione had quickly changed the subject. She always changed the subject.

"It's nothing…just me worrying too much," she eventually replied, her voice now falsely bright. "You're only on installation disk three?"

He was tired of her changing the subject. He turned off the computer.

"Dad! You aren't supposed to do that! You'll have to start over now and-"

"Janey," he interrupted kindly, "tell me what's going on. Tell me what happened and why Harry shouldn't be alone."

And suddenly…inexplicably…the old Hermione returned. She lurched forward and _clung_.

"The tournament he was entered in ended badly," she eventually mumbled through her tears. "One of the other champions died and Harry blames himself. He always blames himself…"

He and Jane had always suspected that Hermione's reluctance to share more about her activities at Hogwarts was due to the dangers she had faced. It was jarring to have their suspicions confirmed far beyond anything they had speculated. David forced himself to stay calm and not blurt out the thousand additional questions now whirling in his brain. Questions about the _unfortunate incident_ on Halloween in her first year and Hermione's _extended stay_ in the hospital wing in second year.

" _Was_ it his fault?"

"No!" she muttered fiercely. "He did something kind- and it led both of them into a trap that had been set- to kidnap him. Harry was able to escape- but Cedric was killed." He could barely decipher the words through Hermione's heaving sobs.

As Hermione continued to cry David mentally started making plans. Plans to sell the practice and move to another country…away from the wizards that had so thoroughly fucked up his daughter's chance at a happy and peaceful future. But those sorts of thoughts were most likely why Hermione had been so afraid to share much about Hogwarts. He forcefully pushed them out of his mind for now.

"I want to go visit him," she eventually continued in a much calmer voice, "he lives in Surrey so it should only be about a forty five minute ride on the Tube. I've already sorted out the route. I'll only have to make one transfer …"

That sounded like the worst fucking idea imaginable but David held his tongue. Hermione had always been responsible and of course she had planned it out.

"Would it be safe?" he forced himself to ask calmly. Why was he forcing himself to be calm?

She nodded into his shoulder. "He's not restricted to his house so that means there are protections in place for the neighborhood," she replied, a bit of hopefulness now peeking through, "I can go during the day and make sure I'm home before nightfall."

"When were you thinking?" he asked. What the fuck was he doing?

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow if it's okay."

David took a breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. Jane was going to throttle him. But Hermione had _finally_ decided to trust them with a bit of what was happening…and as much as he tried he couldn't shake the vision of the lost boy in the tatty clothes that looked far older than his years.

"I want you to ring us when you get there so we know you've made it safely…and you need to be home by seven," he informed.

He was so fucking stupid.

**July 10, 1995**

He had been _so_ stupid. Stupid and naïve. All of his colleagues who said that computerizing their records management would make everything simpler were awful, horrible, lying liars. It had been exceedingly simple _before_ …write out the check…duplicate the information on the little stub and calculate the new bank balance…hand the checkbook off to the accountant every month to reconcile it with the bank statement and do whatever else accountants did. Simple.

But now not only did he have to write out the check like always he also had to type it into the computer every night. The typing wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to repeatedly stop and stare at the keyboard looking for the letter hiding in plain sight. It should have been much simpler to remember locations for each letter…there were only twenty six to choose from for Christ's sake. And to top it all off his typing finger was throbbing from his last appointment of the day. Sodding _Robby Fenwick…_

As annoying as it had been the busywork had served as a nice distraction from the revelations Hermione had begun sharing about Hogwarts and the wizarding world in general over the last week. _Be careful what you wish for_ he had thought to himself when Hermione had explained that Harry had done a bit more than prevent her from having a slight accident in her first year and she had been a bit more than simply under the weather in her second year. Trolls and basilisks. He'd had to look up what a basilisk was before he could be properly horrified.

And the revelations continued trickling out. It turns out Harry has a godfather but…bit of bad luck…he was the mass murderer all over the telly last year.

Good news though. The mass murderer paid them an unplanned visit at school and it turns out he is innocent! Funny story…Ron's pet rat was the real mass murderer. Can you believe it? Crazy…

But wouldn't you know it…they can't prove it so he is still the most wanted man in wizarding Britain. Also, Hermione wants to go and stay with the alleged mass murderer as soon as Harry is allowed to.

Then the godfather's best friend…who is a werewolf by the way…stopped by for a chat. He and Jane sat and listened as the werewolf…the best friend of the wrongly accused mass murderer…urged Hermione to be responsible. It was all a bit much.

But based on Hermione's change in attitude and openness over the last week he knew he had done the right thing. Even Jane had forgiven him for giving permission before having a proper discussion with her. Despite all the danger Hermione had been placed in by existing in the boy's orbit he and Jane were now staunch members of Team Potter. It was nice to be on the same team as Hermione once again and it certainly seemed like Harry deserved it.

He'd finally finished and was all set to reward himself with a beer when his wife entered the room and closed the door. He knew that look. It was the same look they both wore after talking to Hermione these days.

"I gave Hermione fifty pounds and ordered her to buy Harry some new trainers when she visits him tomorrow," she began.

"You seem to be supremely irritated at doing a nice thing," he observed, drawing a glare. He loved it when she glared at him.

"Hermione was a bit worried that Harry wouldn't accept," she continued. "She's going to tell him that I insisted and if he still refuses that you and I would be returning the next day to properly embarrass him into accepting."

David chuckled and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm still not understanding why you are upset."

"The things she's told us are awful, David. And you know as well as I do she isn't telling us everything…and I don't think he has shared very much of his past with her…how horrible it's been since his parents-"

She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Spending fifty pounds on a pair of trainers feels like nothing…" she supplied tiredly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's not nothing. It's not _enough_ …not nearly…but it's something," he reassured.

**July 11, 1995**

The worst part about this program was there was always some other blasted helpful component to move onto. The thought of tracking all of the patient accounts and amounts owed was intriguing. And he was getting much better at typing…he now used two fingers.

Hermione walked into the room and took a seat. She'd made it home from her visit with Harry with ten minutes to spare.

"How did it go today?"

"Great," she mumbled. David purposely ignored the pleased smile his daughter was now sporting.

"He didn't put up too much of a fight about the trainers?"

She shook her head. "I just handled it like Mum handles you."

"Your mother does not _handle_ me," he protested.

"I basically told him he was being silly and just wasting time by being stubborn," she continued.

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped. That did sound like how Jane handled him.

"Okay, _fine_. Maybe I do let your mother get her way some of the time. It's the polite thing to do isn't it?"

"Harry was much less stubborn than you are when Mum-"

"Your mother is the stubborn one," he mumbled defiantly, drawing a chuckle from Hermione.

"I told Harry that they knew I had visited him last week. He gave me this so I could travel undetected," she informed, holding up a shiny piece of fabric.

"Nice rug," he complimented falsely. Based on Hermione's description he knew exactly what it was.

"It's not a _rug_ ," she protested immediately. "It's a- You know what it is, don't you?"

"Are you sure it's not a rug? It looks like a rug."

"Fine. If you don't want to try out the _rug_ than-"

"It's an invisibility cloak!" he blurted as he reached for the artifact and quickly wrapped it around his body.

"This rug is amazing!" he exclaimed as he looked down at his now non-existent body.

Hermione laughed as she took back the cloak and carefully folded it back up, holding it protectively in her lap.

"Harry had never heard of Oasis," Hermione eventually declared, a bit of sadness in her voice.

"Lucky for him," he quipped, drawing a glare quite similar to his wife's best efforts.

After several seconds he understood her comment. Those twats were everywhere and for a resident of England to be unaware of their existence seemed a bit unfathomable…especially a teenage boy. It had only taken Hermione a week of being home last summer before she had commented on how annoying they were. His heart sank a bit at the implications.

Over the last couple of weeks he'd been picturing Harry stuck alone in his room all day. But now…for the first time…he could _hear_ the silence. He realized they could do something about that.

"Let's go…the shops will be closing soon."

**July 24, 1995**

All and all David Granger was having an especially good summer. Temperatures had been mild, Hermione had been more present and content than he could remember, he was now using all of his fingers (kind of)to type on the computer, and that prat Wallenby hadn't stopped while he was working in the yard to brag about his car…or his golf game…or anything. The prat had walked right by him…twice! It was brilliant. And with the exception of a few letters the wizards had even managed to stay away for the last couple of weeks. He knew it was too good to last.

"Professor McGonagall would like to speak with you," Hermione grit out as she entered the kitchen. It was clear that Hermione's head of house thought, having failed to sway Hermione, she'd be able to win them over. He actually felt a bit bad for the woman. Just a bit.

He fought the urge to grin as Jane sat quietly and listened to Professor McGonagall's vague and circular reasoning for why it was so important for Hermione to stay away from Little Whinging. _It's a bad idea because it's not safe so because it's a bad idea it's not safe…did I mention it's not safe and therefore a bad idea?_

The woman had paused awkwardly several times…clearly anticipating that they would say something. Agree with her…ask questions…express concern…anything. But Jane just sat quietly…her most pleasantly insincere grin plastered on his face. His grin, however, was exceedingly sincere as he waited for Jane's _spirited_ rebuttal.

"So…as you can see…it really is in both children's best interests that these visits cease," she finally concluded. It may have been his imagination but even McGonagall didn't seem to believe what she was saying.

"I just have one question," Jane began calmly," and I was waiting for you to answer it. Perhaps I missed it amongst all the word salad. Why?"

"I don't understand," McGonagall lied. David could tell she understood completely.

"Well you've said it's dangerous for Harry…it's dangerous for Hermione…that it's dangerous for us. But I'm still waiting for you to explain why. Why is it dangerous? Harry has followed every instruction that he's been given…he and Hermione have taken their own precautions which appear to be working…and you are being very non-specific with these threats."

The witch remained silent and David wondered if she was about to do that disappearing thing he'd read about in one of Hermione's books. She looked like she desperately wanted to.

"As I understand it no-one has told Harry he isn't supposed to leave his house so it seems like it's actually safer for him if Hermione accompanies him on his authorized excursions. Strength in numbers and all that. Right?"

Jane paused in false consideration. "Actually, Hermione, has anyone beside you communicated _anything_ important to Harry this summer."

"No," Hermione replied, her arms folded. "Nothing has been explained to him. No-one else has even bothered talking to Harry." His daughter seemed much less angry than his wife…merely disappointed.

"Harry's relatives aren't comfortable around magic-"

"Hermione is a witch and she was able to manage it," Jane interjected, her prior pleasantness now nothing but a memory. "Are you telling me a fifteen year old girl is smarter than a group of adults? Or is she merely more brave and caring?

He was enjoying the back and forth so much that he'd almost missed his cue.

"We appreciate your concern but we think Harry and his state of mind are worth the risk. I've barely spoken to the boy but based on what Hermione has described Harry has experienced some truly horrific things recently and needs all the friends he can get. To be honest we were hoping that Hermione might have been exaggerating the circumstances a bit just so she could visit her boyfriend. Is she exaggerating?"

There was a small part of him that thought Hermione really may be inflating Harry's situation as an excuse to see him but the look on McGonagall's face put all those doubts to rest. If anything it suggested that Hermione had merely scratched the surface of Harry's suffering. He suddenly felt like an ass for taking any enjoyment out of the situation. None of this was funny.

"What was it that your headmaster said at his end of term speech, Hermione?" Jane continued. "It was important to do what was right over what was easy. Between you and Hermione who would you say has chosen to follow that advice?"

As their visitor looked properly ashamed and began saying her awkward goodbyes David felt his own annoyance growing. He was tired of these pointless sodding visits. They were as bad as Wallenby. Well…maybe not quite that bad.

"I've never seen my daughter happier and we are very proud of her for choosing to help Harry. If you really do come up with the _whys_ that Jane asked about please let us know. Otherwise I'd appreciate it if you left us alone to enjoy our summer."

The door had barely shut behind their visitor before Hermione wheeled toward him. "You didn't have to be so mean. And Harry is _not_ my boyfriend."

"Oh _please_ , Hermione, everything we said was true and she needed to hear it," Jane tutted as she walked into the kitchen, "and he may not be your boyfriend yet but it is obvious how you feel about Harry. Even your father can see it."

"Hey!"

**July 31, 1995**

David had always prided himself on his conversational skills. As a dentist it came with the territory. Knowing the right thing to say…being able to smoothly fill up the awkward silences and put people at ease…he was a master.

But as he listened to Harry explain that his Aunt and Uncle would be angry if they knew about his crap presents he was at a loss words. Clothes were the last thing any fifteen year old boy would hope for on their birthday. Even the football shirt they'd given him was crap. As much as he loved Manchester City they weren't likely to survive relegation next season. They were the epitome of crap.

He wasn't normally a fan of physical affection with strangers but he wanted nothing more than to wrap the boy in a hug before chucking him in the open boot and driving away from this awful place.

He'd actually done a good job of putting on a happy face all night and allowing Harry to have a bit of mindless fun and attention on his birthday. But it had been hard to smile through the constant reminders: The new trainers that stuck out like a sore thumb against the worn, oversized hand me downs he wore. The fact that the awful clothes he had on were probably the nicest he had available. His look of sincere appreciation as he opened his crap presents.

David had properly pushed through every disheartening bit, kept a smile on his face and the jokes flowing. But _this_ …it was too much.

He didn't throw Harry into the boot of the car and drive off into the sunset like he wanted. Instead he made a dumb joke about Hermione's love of study planners and then told him the truth…that he was truly thankful for getting to celebrate Harry's birthday with him.

When he returned to the car he quickly closed the door, knowing his wife had been watching and would want answers.

"Do I want to know why Harry isn't taking his presents, David?" she asked, a powder keg ready to blow.

"He said his relatives would get upset if they saw him wearing them. He wants Hermione to bring them to Hogwarts."

"We bought him clothes!" she protested in an angry hush. "They're angry at him having proper clothes to wear?"

"Just leave it, Jane," he said quietly. He looked into the rearview expecting to see anger from Hermione to rival her mother…instead he was met with despair.

She spotted him looking and quickly wiped away the tears. "It isn't fair…" she mumbled absently before forcing herself to school her features. David wondered how many times she'd plastered on that same brave face for her friend over the years.

"I'm going to walk him back," Hermione informed as she moved to exit the car.

"Remember what I said," Jane informed, drawing an affirming nod from Hermione before she forced a smile.

"What did you tell her?"

"If she truly wanted Harry to be more than a friend than she needed to take the initiative."

It was a bit hard to tell as he was watching through a mirror and they were now a block away but it definitely looked like Hermione had taken the initiative. He would have preferred if she had waited a few more years to take the initiative. Maybe decades…

"I think she took your advice," he informed, drawing a sad smile from his wife, all of her previous fury now gone.

"This is all so terrifying," she trembled. "They're only _fifteen_ , David."

He remained quiet…not feeling the need to fill up the now deafening silence. There was no proper answer to that and being comfortable in the silences was one of the best bits about marriage.

He watched his daughter now clinging to the boy with the ridiculous hair and awful clothes and allowed himself a small smile. It had gotten a bit depressing for a few brief minutes but he reminded himself that it had been a good day. They had allowed a good person with shit luck to have a nice, normal birthday. That was something.

He realized that Hermione had set up camp against Harry's chest and wondered what the appropriate response would be for a normal father watching his daughter _take the initiative_ for a bit too long with her nice, normal boyfriend. The answer was obvious. He placed his hand on the car horn but his wife's voice stopped him short.

"David…" she warned, trying not to smile.

He rarely ignored his wife's warnings but this would be an exception. It would be the perfect way to let the boy with the ridiculous hair and awful clothes know that they approved…that he deserved someone who cared about him…and that as much as he liked him it was time to let go of his daughter. He might have imagined it but he thought he saw Harry smile when Hermione pulled back and glared in his direction.

It wasn't enough…not nearly enough…but it was something.

**August 3, 1995**

"Well that was interesting," was all he could think to say as they pulled out of Number 4 and began the journey home.

Jane started laughing at the absurdity of it all and he spotted Hermione smiling in the back as well…the invisibility cloak carefully folded and sitting in her lap. She'd tried to give it back but Harry had insisted.

"We're going to miss you, Janey," his wife called softly, vocalizing the worst result of the evening. Two wizards would be coming tomorrow at mid-day to pop her away.

As much as he'd gotten a bit of the old Hermione back the last few weeks he knew it was just that…a small piece. Although he knew they'd never totally lose her…they'd lost an awful lot. Too much…too soon.

"Sirius wanted you to have this," Hermione informed as she held up a small, square mirror. "The brother will be with Harry and me so I'll be able to talk to you from time to time. You'll even be able to see a bit of Hogwarts if we play it right and don't get caught."

"We'll be able to see you and properly talk to you?" Jane asked hopefully, not quite believing the gift they'd been given.

"Yes. It works both ways but you need a wand to activate it so I'll have to call you."

"Doesn't giving us this break your secrecy law?" he asked.

"Statute, actually, but yes. So PLEASE make sure to not leave it out."

"Wouldn't want the mass murderer to get in any more trouble," he joked, drawing a chuckle from his wife.

"Just remind me to give it to you before I leave tomorrow," Hermione added.

"Why not give it to us now?" Jane asked. Based on her smile she'd already sorted out the reason.

"I need to properly test it," Hermione replied tersely.

"Tonight before you go back to sleep?" he asked, grinning at his wife.

"Dad."

"And when you wake up in the morning," Jane pitched in joyfully.

" _Mother_ -"

"And an hour after that-"

"Anyway," Hermione forged on, "just remind me right before I leave."

They lapsed into a companionable silence as the late hour began to catch up with them. He glanced in the rearview and saw Hermione sleeping peacefully…the mirror and invisibility cloak possessively wrapped in her arms. The gift of the mirror was a monumental gesture…life altering. It wouldn't make up for everything he and Jane had lost when that first owl swooped through their open window four years ago but it was something.

But beyond that they'd helped a fifteen year old boy with truly shit luck even the odds just a little. While the wizards stood idle the muggles had won the day. He'd been all set for a lecture from the wizards when they showed up and received the opposite. Apologies and handshakes and forceful hugs were prevalent. And if the mass murderer was to be believed they were all due to receive phenomenally good birthday presents.

He made a mental note to talk to Bill tomorrow about Harry's hearing date. They said they'd most likely get there using the Tube…maybe he and Jane could convince them to let them know when so they could see him on the route. It wasn't even important to talk to Harry…just pass by him on the sidewalk and give him a wink…or maybe sit on the Tube in his eyesight…the important bit was to let him know that he wasn't alone. They'd have to cancel their morning appointments for the day but it would be worth it. The boy with shit luck was more than worth it.


	4. Slide Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is from Hermione's perspective and moves the timeline forward but not before covering a bit of prior ground. I mean what kind of hack writer doesn't spend at least four chapters on the same time period. It's in the How Not To Be A Hack Writer handbook AO3 sends you when you create an account.

_Don't know, don't care, all I know is you can take me there..._

**July 30, 1995**

As she stalked the aisles of John Lewis looking for the nicest (but not _too_ nice) and most (this was very important) normal jumpers Hermione tried not to let herself be distracted by the anxiety that seemed to be growing by the second.

When Hermione had informed her parents she would be visiting Harry on Monday instead of the standard Tuesday schedule she hadn't even considered that they would ask why. Not only had they asked why, they had, inexplicably, decided to come along and join in the celebration. She appreciated the sentiment…she really did…and she knew Harry would more than likely appreciate their presence. But there was a small part…the part that had been present since he'd rescued her from the troll…that feared she would overwhelm him. She had gotten better at managing the urge over the years but it seemed her daily existence hovered precipitously close to crossing that line…the _overwhelming Harry_ line.

"Hermione are you even listening to me?"

Oh right, her mother was here and she was meant to be shopping…not worrying about overwhelming Harry.

"I was asking whether Harry wore boxers or briefs," she informed.

"Boxers," Hermione replied automatically, "but nothing outrageous. Stick to basic patterns or solid colors. Dark blue or green would be best…basic red or scarlet would be fine as well."

Hermione had almost put her mother's presence out of her mind and recommenced her worrying before she began speaking again.

"Do I want to know how you know that?" she asked. Her mother looked far too amused for Hermione's liking.

" _Mother_ ," she said in a scandalized hush, "it's nothing like that. I've learned a few packing spells and Harry would just throw everything into his trunk at the end of term if I didn't help. I just give him a bit of help in organizing and - Why are you looking at me that way?" she asked in annoyance.

Hermione knew exactly why she was looking at her that way. Her mum always knew.

" _He isn't my boyfriend_ ," she muttered angrily, remembering the conversation with Professor McGonagall a few days prior. She wished she'd never thought of switching up the days for Harry's birthday. Her parents were going to embarrass her and _overwhelm_ Harry to no end. The only important thing was for Harry to have a good birthday and all of her plans were being mucked with.

Hermione stalked back into the section of tops furthest away from her mother. She needed to focus on finding the nicest (but not too nice) jumpers she could find and she was sick of being teased.

It was several minutes and four selections later that her mother approached her once again, now much more reserved.

"What do you think?" she offered as she held up several packages. They were perfect…nice but not extraordinary.

"Those are good; did you make sure to get Large? I know they'll be a bit big on him but I can-"

"Shrink them down and modify the enchantment as he grows a bit," her mother finished for her quietly so as not to be overheard. "I've followed your instructions to the letter, dear." Based on her tone it was clear that she knew her jokes had touched a particularly raw nerve. She always knew.

"Let's pay for these and get something to eat," her mother informed, grabbing the shirts from her before she could properly protest.

"I'm sorry for teasing you, Janey," her mother offered ten minutes later as she idly stirred her tea.

Hermione stared at her own tea as her face suddenly became warm. She'd shared so much with her parents over the last few weeks but had held on stubbornly to one secret. It turns out it was pointless to be so secretive. Mum always knew. Apparently even her father had sorted it out.

"Does he know?" she asked.

She shook her head _no_ , her head remaining firmly facing down. She added another spot of milk to her tea as a distraction to pretend there was as an actual reason she was finding her beverage so fascinating.

"Do you think he feels the same?"

"I think so," she mumbled as she continued to stir. "He's been looking at me differently. I think. It's hard with Harry…" she trailed off.

Hermione waited for her mother to continue with her interrogation but silence prevailed. Her curiosity overtook her embarrassment and she looked up. Her mother looked so _bereft_ as she continued to stir.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she finally offered with a sad smile. "We were supposed to laugh and giggle about who you had your eye on and I was supposed to happily offer advice."

"You don't want me to be involved with Harry?" she asked in confusion. She hadn't been lying to Harry…Hermione honestly thought her mother would gladly take Harry in if allowed.

"Of course that's not it," her mother replied, "I would hope our actions this summer would have proven that. But honey, this isn't just any boy. You are already so close and Harry is…damaged."

She suddenly couldn't take her eyes off of her mother…her agitation immediately surging. "That isn't fair," she replied angrily. "You don't even know-"

"I know it's not his fault, Hermione…but that doesn't change the reality of the situation. Allowing you to go to Hogwarts was terrifying for your father and me. We knew that we couldn't stop you…that it was in your best interests…but that didn't make it any less terrifying. This is very much the same for me."

"If you think he is going to hurt me-"

"I'm saying this all wrong," her mother muttered before taking a breath and beginning again.

"I'm saying you need to be absolutely sure of your feelings. You have the power to go from being the best thing that has ever happened to Harry to being the worst. And he has the same power over you."

"Hang on. You're worried about…Harry?"

Her mother laughed…an honest to goodness laugh that drew the attention of nearby customers. "Of course I am. But I'm worried about you as well. Did you think I was trying to talk you out of your feelings?"

"Um…yes," she offered uncertainly.

"Hermione Jane Granger," you have been a force of nature since you were five years old. Trying to stop you once you've set your mind to something is like trying to stop a tidal wave."

"I'm not that bad," Hermione muttered.

"You are absolutely that bad and you know it," her mother chastised. "It's one of your best traits.

"Is there a point to all this?" Hermione asked, her face warming. Her tea had suddenly become very interesting once again.

"Stop pouting and look at me," her mother ordered. She immediately looked up.

She began speaking again in the calm voice that screamed _pay attention_. "I'm going to ask you something…and I want you to really think before answering. What will you do if you learn Harry doesn't feel the same way?"

She began to answer but was quickly interrupted.

"Please humor me. Take a few seconds and at least _pretend_ to consider your answer."

Hermione tried not to smile as she pretended to consider her mother's question for several seconds.

"Long enough?" she asked, waiting for her mother's amused nod before continuing. "I'll still be his friend."

Her mother raised an inquiring eyebrow. "You can live with that?"

"I won't abandon Harry," she answered immediately. "Ever."

"Than show him," she answered, "because if he's been treated half as badly as you think he won't have a clue how to do it. Now let's go get some socks."

**August 3, 1995**

It had been twenty five minutes since Harry's declaration and Hermione was beginning to think no-one was taking his threat seriously. At the very least she had expected another letter telling him to stay put but besides the Dursleys storming back to their bedrooms nothing of note had happened.

Well, a few things had happened. She'd embedded herself into Harry's side and her father had decided to fill the anticipatory silence by sharing with Harry how truly awful his beloved Manchester City were. Hermione chuckled when Harry said they sounded a lot like the Chudley Cannons but with better colors.

They'd move on to discussing the merits of Pink Floyd when the door sprung open, revealing three wizards and one witch. Professor Lupin and Mr. Weasley looked pensive while Bill began searching the house for threats. Suddenly another wizard appeared from under an invisibility cloak with the largest grin Hermione had ever seen. Her heart warmed at how happy and _whole_ Sirius appeared.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed as his godfather pulled him into a hug, "you aren't supposed to be here," he admonished.

"My godson gave me no choice," he replied joyfully as he moved on and pulled her into a hug.

"Uh…could one of you cast…what is it called? _Silencio_?" her mother asked cautiously. "Harry's relatives were a bit put out by everything happening and I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

"We'll take care of it," Mr. Weasley replied as he motioned for Bill to follow him up the steps.

Amidst all the activity Hermione noticed the unknown witch was beaming at her and Harry. It made sense for her to be interested in Harry but she seemed to be garnering just as much attention. The witch looked very familiar.

"Fetch your things, Harry," Remus ordered calmly before turning his attention toward her parents, "We need to talk to the Grangers for a moment."

She felt Harry immediately tense. "If you're going to lecture them-"

"Just inform and thank," Sirius interrupted happily, "we are all on the same side here." He looked years younger than the last time she'd seen him…and his hair looked _fantastic_.

"I'll go with you," she stated matter of factly as she pulled Harry up from the couch.

"I'll go too!" the witch added brightly as she bundled to their side and stuck out her hand. "I'm Tonks by the way."

"Uhh…hi," Harry replied uncertainly as the witch, Tonks, shook his hand vigorously.

"Nice to meet you, Tonks," Hermione offered as the woman latched onto her hand. She was very excited.

"Let's go!" she enthused, bounding up the stairs. She and Harry followed uncertainly behind.

"How did you know which room was mine?" Harry asked suspiciously as they entered. Hermione stifled the urge to be enraged by the multiple locks on the door and how barren his room was compared to the rest of the house.

"I'm one of the people who's been guarding you. Oh, I can do that!" Tonks answered as she began magically, and sloppily, packing up Harry's things.

"You were at the café," Hermione suddenly realized, "but you had longer hair…and it was…normal."

Tonks became a bit uncomfortable. "Yeah…sorry about that. We were told to follow Harry wherever he went. I didn't listen into your conversations though…just made sure no-one dodgy had followed you."

"Hang on, you were at McDonalds too! But your hair was pink," Harry interjected.

The woman stopped what she was doing and scrunched her face in concentration. Moments later her hair turned a particularly aggressive shade of orange.

"You're a metamorphmagus!" Hermione enthused, drawing a confused stare from Harry. "I'll explain later," she reassured and squeezed his arm, drawing a wistful sigh from Tonks.

"You two are so cute together!" she exclaimed unthinkingly. "Sorry! I'm just…a big fan," she muttered awkwardly as she levitated Harry's trunk and followed it out the door.

Hermione tried not to think about all of her recent time spent with Harry being monitored and focused on the fact that they were alone for the first time since his birthday. As wonderful as their moment had been before her idiot father had ruined it, it was just that, a moment. She desperately needed clarification and context to where she and Harry stood.

"Harry, you don't regret us kissing do you?" she asked.

"What? Of course not!"

"So…we're _together_ now, right?"

"Yes. I mean, if you-"

"Good," she interrupted before kissing him quickly and forcefully, knowing they would be interrupted at any moment. No sooner than they had started she heard another wistful sigh. It was slightly more pleasant than a car horn but equally as infuriating.

"I really do hate to interrupt but we need to get going," Tonks advised as she grabbed Hedwig's cage. "But don't worry, there are loads of empty rooms where were headed. I'll even let you know which ones have been decontaminated," she advised with a waggle of her eyebrows before exiting the room once again.

"Is she… _encouraging_ us to sneak around and snog? And they're taking you to a place with _contaminated_ rooms?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"I like her," Harry grinned as he grabbed her hand and led her toward the door.

* * *

The feeling of Apparating was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. The fact that she did it while huddled under an invisibility cloak only added to the bizarreness of the experience. Bill had appeared from a nearby alleyway and quickly began scanning the perimeter. After a few moments he nodded affirmatively in their direction.

Hermione had barely gotten her bearings before Professor Lupin handed her a note. She read the note and gasped as a grimy building appeared out of nowhere. She knew how the _Fidelius_ charm worked but actually seeing it in action was a bit of a shock.

"We're here," she heard Lupin whisper into his mirror before the door to the building opened and she was quickly bustled inside by a beaming Tonks.

"I'm sorry we have to leave you so abruptly but there is an emergency Order meeting happening right now," Remus informed as he handed her the invisibility cloak.

"Dumbledore isn't too happy about our rescue mission last night," Bill added, not looking apologetic in the slightest. Remus appeared to be trying to look a bit remorseful but was failing miserably as well. Tonks just stared at her…grinning.

"Harry and the others are upstairs," Tonks added before leaning forward and speaking in a hush. "If anyone asks you haven't completed your summer assignments yet."

This was just getting odder. "I don't understand. I have everything done-"

"Just listen to Nym- Tonks, Miss Granger," Remus added quietly. "You will thank us later. Trust us."

"See you later," Tonks waved happily, turning around and promptly tripping on the step she'd forgotten about.

"Top of the stairs, first door on the right," Remus concluded before following Tonks and Bill.

She quickly made her way upstairs and opened the door. Ginny was sitting on the bed and Ron and Harry seemed to be in the middle of an intense discussion…a discussion that stopped immediately upon her entrance.

As good as it was to see Ron and Ginny her eyes were immediately drawn to Harry and his non faded, non worn, nice (but not too nice) clothes. He had chosen her favorite of the jumpers that she had picked out for him and that small bit of symmetry warmed her heart. She knew in her brain that she should be greeting Ron and Ginny…but her heart demanded that her eyes remained glued onto Harry for just a bit longer.

Since Harry had become her boyfriend she'd only had mere seconds to properly _celebrate_. She knew they had serious things to worry and be concerned about…Harry's hearing…Ron and Ginny's reaction…the ridiculously gloomy house that she'd agreed to spend the next month in…but that was her head talking and her head would have to wait for once. Her heart was in charge at the moment and it wanted to celebrate as soon as possible with Harry. Fervently.

Harry was grinning like a loon and she suspected that she was as well. This normally would have bothered her because she most decidedly did _not_ grin like a loon. She heard a throat clear to her side. It was Ginny.

"It's good to see you, Hermione," she greeted with false brightness. "Between Harry fighting dementors and your rescue mission you've really stirred up a hornet's nest. It's a good thing too as it's been dead boring around here."

"Hi Ginny, Hi Ron," she stated pleasantly.

Ginny smiled while Ron seemed to be forcing himself not to scowl. She was reminded of the Yule Ball and her nerves were instantly set on edge.

"Happy to see you've decided to grace us with your presence," he added spitefully. This was definitely the Yule Ball version of Ron.

"Cut it out," Harry interjected immediately, all remnants of his happy grin now gone.

She was not going to go through this nonsense again…especially about Harry.

"Let him finish, Harry," she interjected, folding her arms and glaring. "I would love to hear Ron's thoughts on what I've been up to all summer."

Her stare-off with Ron was interrupted by Ginny forcefully pulling the idiot toward the door. "We'll leave you two alone," she informed.

"I'm not leaving," Ron replied grumpily, pulling back from his sister's grip.

"George! Fred! Ron won't leave!" Ginny said loudly before the twins appeared out of thin air.

"Hello Hermione," George greeted as he placed a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"See you later, Hermione," Fred declared as the pair and Ron disappeared from sight. She immediately heard muffled shouting from a nearby room. She couldn't wait until she was of age and could disappear at will whenever Ron started whinging.

"They passed their Apparition tests," Ginny informed dully, once again wearing a false, sad smile. "Sorry about Ron. He's been a bit pathetic without you two the last few weeks. We'll talk later, Hermione," she finished before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

"I thought they'd never leave," Harry joked awkwardly. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable…more uncomfortable than he had in weeks. She fought the urge to find Ron and punch him repeatedly for whatever nonsense he had been telling Harry. She instead opted to run toward Harry and initiate a different physical activity. Repeatedly.

Several celebratory minutes later she was once again buried into Harry's chest.

"I think Ron is annoyed that we're…you know…together," he mumbled into her hair.

"Poor Ron," she muttered as she pulled back and looked into his eyes, poised to resume the celebration. "He is in for a _really_ annoying month."

**August 12, 1995**

As brilliant as the last week had been this day had loomed over her and Harry's heads during every wonderful moment spent together. While Ginny, Ron and the twins were put to work cleansing the house of every annoying magical creature and curse imaginable she and Harry had spent most of their time _working on their summer assignments_ thanks to a passionate and supportive subset of the Order. Sirius and Tonks in particular seemed to be devoted to helping her and Harry get as much private time as possible. And as much as she thought there were more important things to be dealing with she couldn't bring herself to verbalize it. Getting to celebrate with Harry had been brilliant. So brilliant.

But now Harry was gone and she was in the drawing room, sitting on the floor and trying to think of anything but the possibility that he would be expelled from Hogwarts. The hour that had passed since Harry had left that morning felt like a lifetime. An anxiety ridden, helpless, infuriating lifetime.

"There you are," Sirius intoned tiredly as he sunk down beside her on the floor.

"This is the part where I'm meant to tell you everything will be fine," he consoled. "But as that's a crock of shit I'll just sit and quietly panic with you if you don't mind."

She chuckled and closed her eyes, suddenly missing her parents. "You really shouldn't use that type of language," she informed absently.

"You've ruined me, you know," he continued, ignoring her mild rebuke. "Without you being all brave and noble I would have been secretly hoping Harry would get expelled and stuck here with me. But instead I'm worried for his future and it's entirely your fault."

"I wasn't being noble," she admitted. "I just wanted to spend time with Harry and thought he didn't deserve to be alone."

"Yeah, well so did I but I sat on my arse for a month instead of making it happen. So accept the compliment."

"I never thanked you properly for the mirror," she interjected, uncomfortable at his praise.

He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm glad to have a use for them."

They lapsed into an extended silence and eventually she felt her anxiety growing once again. The silence was becoming unbearable.

"We should play chess," Sirius eventually, inexplicably, stated.

"What? Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm currently going round the bend thinking about Harry and I'm tired of losing to Ron."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And you think you can beat me?"

"Please," he answered dismissively, "you're a girl. Everyone knows girls aren't competitive or good at critical thinking. I mean, it won't be that exciting to beat _a girl_ but it will at least be something to pass the time."

The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was play chess…not to mention the fact that she'd never hear the end of it if he won. And she was rubbish at chess so losing was a distinct possibility. But she was in severe need of a distraction and _really_ wanted to beat him.

"Fine," she mumbled, trying to hide her grin at Sirius' excited clap.

"This is going to be great! I love beating girls!" he exclaimed.

Forty five minutes later she raised her arms in triumph. "Checkmate!"

"I can't believe I lost to a girl," he muttered miserably. "Suppose it was the charitable thing to do…help you with your self esteem and all that."

"Right," she grinned. "You let me win."

"Did I mention I was surrounded by dementors for over a decade?" he continued feebly. "That's bound to have affected my cognitive abilities."

"I don't doubt it," she replied.

"Hey!" he protested, realizing that he'd unwittingly insulted himself and that she had agreed. "Girls are gross anyway," he mumbled as he stuck out his tongue.

Through her laughter she heard a rumbling from the other room. She sprinted out the door and found a bewildered but pleased Harry looking on as Ginny and the twins circled him while chanting _He got off!_

"I told you," she heard Sirius mutter in her ear. "Now go hug Harry and don't mention how you had to cheat to beat me at chess."

She surprised herself by not taking Sirius' advice, opting to hug him instead. He let out a grunt of surprise before he returned the hug and joined in the celebrating chant.

Seconds later she found herself joining in the idiotic chorus as well. She couldn't wait to tell her parents the good news.

**August 19, 1995**

It had been thirty minutes since Harry had disappeared with Professor McGonagall into a nearby room and Hermione was desperately trying not to worry about what new awful revelation was being shared. It had taken weeks but she'd finally convinced Harry to talk to Sirius about the strange dreams he'd been having about the Ministry hallway and door. This was her punishment for urging Harry to trust them with the disturbing visions and the subsequent tingling in his scar.

She was about to whip out an extendable ear to find out what was going on before the door opened.

"Good day Miss Granger," McGonagall intoned pleasantly as she moved to leave. She slightly relaxed as it seemed to indicate they weren't planning on wrapping Harry's head up in muggle bubble wrap and shipping him off once again for his own _protection_. She waited until McGonagall properly left the house before she began her interrogation.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" she demanded, becoming instantly annoyed/relieved at Harry's surprised chuckle. She glared at him out of habit.

"Nothing's wrong," he soothed, entirely unaffected at her feeble attempt to intimidate him, "and I'm not supposed to tell you. You'll find out soon."

"What?" she nearly shrieked.

"Take it easy," he mumbled as he pulled her into a nearby room and closed the door. "Of course I'm going to tell you," he said in a hush, "no-one else but you will care anyway."

"Stop beating around the bush and tell me," she demanded angrily, causing Harry to grin.

She didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed at this dynamic. Her attempts at intimidation were failing miserably but she was still getting her way. Is this what it was like to be in a relationship? It was all very confusing.

"McGonagall wanted to talk with me about the fifth year prefect position," he stated unceremoniously.

She squealed and wrapped him in a hug. "That's fantastic, Harry!" she enthused into his shoulder. At his continued silence she pulled back. "Isn't it?"

"Dumbledore _suggested_ she appoint someone besides me because I had t _oo many other things going on in my life_ ," he answered, clearly annoyed.

"What things?" she asked, becoming annoyed on Harry's behalf.

"I've no idea and he didn't share anything else with McGonagall. I'm guessing it's to do with the resurrected tosser though."

She buried herself into his shoulder once again. "What did you say?"

"I accepted because of who the other Gryffindor prefect is."

"Who?" she asked as she pulled back once again, not daring to assume.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not even going to bother answering that question."

She unconsciously began leaping in place, causing Harry to laugh. "You can't tell anyone until we get our letters."

She grabbed onto him once again and furiously nodded as she squealed into his shoulder to muffle the sound.

**August 24, 1995**

Hermione fought the desperate urge to roll her eyes as far back into her head as possible. She and Harry had just been _inducted_ into something called the Granger Initiative Taskforce. Although she was grateful for the multiple enchantments they'd placed on her parents' house it seemed to her that their meetings had devolved into drinking and making fun of each other. While Harry seemed to be highly amused at the proceedings she couldn't help but wonder why they were there.

They were now meant to recite an oath to officially commemorate their initiation as junior members of the group. She knew it would be stupid and pointless…it was Sirius after all…but the levels of stupidity and pointlessness surprised even her. The oath was clearly a vehicle for Sirius to come up with as many ways to rhyme words with her last name. Ranger…stranger…manger…changer... _change her_ …it was all. so. stupid.

"Is there a point to this?" she finally interrupted as Sirius began regaling them with the tale of a comely witch and his plans to _rearrange her._

"I was just getting to the good part!" he pouted before brightening slightly and shooting a wink toward her boyfriend. "Best to leave it there, eh Harry? Wouldn't want to _enrage her._

"That doesn't even rhyme!" she protested as everyone else groaned. Everyone but Harry. His grin was infectious and she found herself smiling as well.

"Fine! Induction is over," he surrendered. She watched as the man became much more serious and quickly downed his drink. Everyone at the table looked uneasy at what was about to be discussed.

"We wanted to talk to you about your dreams, Harry," Arthur began.

She felt Harry tense beside her and unconsciously reached for his hand. It had been less than a month since she'd been allowed to reach for Harry whenever she liked and she wondered if she would ever tire of it. The last four years of forcibly pushing back against the urge had been really difficult.

"You aren't supposed to be talking to me about this are you?" Harry intuited.

"Dumbledore thinks we-"

"Don't sugar coat it, Arthur," Sirius interrupted. We don't know what Dumbledore thinks because he won't explain his reasoning. We've just been told not to share anything with you."

"But you are anyway," Hermione interjected.

"Like I said the other day," Sirius answered with a wink, "it's entirely your fault."

Harry looked at her in confusion and she subtly shook her head to indicate they would talk about it later. She heard the now familiar wistful sigh from Tonks as Harry nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"The place you've been dreaming about…it sounds like the place the Order has been guarding…where the weapon is located," Sirius continued.

'What is it?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"The Ministry has a department devoted to studying more _ambiguous_ forms of magic," Bill continued.

"The Department of Mysteries," Hermione supplied, garnering nods from the adults in the room.

"Order members have been guarding something there, in the Hall of Prophecies," Sirius continued.

"A prophecy?" Hermione scoffed, "Divination is the most useless subject being taught at school."

"Normally I would agree with you," Remus interjected, "Ninety nine percent of what we think of as Divination is rubbish, but the other one percent can be monumentally important. If we pretend that isn't the case we are setting ourselves up for failure."

"Like love," Harry interjected. "Dumbledore said Mum's love protected me and Voldemort had never respected that sort of magic."

"Yes, exactly like that," Remus continued, "in fact the Department of Mysteries has a room dedicated to studying love as well."

Harry nodded his head and took a breath. "What's the prophecy?" he trudged on.

"We don't know. Dumbledore knows something but believes it isn't safe to share exactly what he knows."

"So, you lot are guarding something and have no idea what it is or who it's about?" Harry asked, his annoyance growing.

"It's about you," Tonks added nervously, "you and the other guy. King and I have been searching the prophecy room to find anything with a familiar name and I finally found something last night."

"What does it say?" Harry asked nervously.

"Prophecies are dodgy things," Sirius answered. "Anyone who even tries to touch a prophecy not made about them would go mad."

"So Voldemort wants to know the prophecy and you are guarding the room to stop him. The prophecy is the weapon," Harry observed.

"Yes."

"And Dumbledore doesn't want me to know any of this," Harry continued, annoyance evident in his voice.

"If it makes you feel any better he didn't want us to know either," Bill added in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"I guess we know what Dumbledore thought I'd have on my mind this year," Harry mumbled ruefully in a low voice that only she could hear. She was too terrified at the moment to appreciate the humor.

The silence seemed to drag on as everyone waited for Harry to speak…to react…to…anything.

"So what happens now?" Harry finally asked.

"That's up to you," Remus answered calmly.

"What?" Harry stated.

All eyes turned to Sirius. "We've all agreed that you have the right to hear the prophecy. We are willing to try and make that happen."

"Behind Dumbledore's back?"

"Behind Dumbledore's back," Sirius confirmed unwaveringly.

"Just the five of you?" Harry continued, still not quite believing what they were offering.

"Eight of us actually. King is on duty right now and Filius and Minnie are skipping this meeting for purposes of plausible deniability," Sirius replied.

"Professor Flitwick?" Hermione interjected, "and…Minnie?"

"Professor McGonagall," Remus supplied, amused at the gobsmacked expressions she and Harry were now wearing. "We understand this is a lot to take in. Just let us know when-"

"I want to know," Harry interrupted forcefully. Hermione wasn't surprised. She was, however, frightened beyond belief. They had better come up with a good plan.

"You're sure?" Sirius prompted.

Harry looked to her for confirmation. Every fiber of her being wanted to hustle them both out of this wretched house under his invisibility cloak and never look back. But Harry would never agree to such a thing so neither would she.

She did her best to manage an encouraging smile and nodded her agreement. His look of relief settled her nerves just a bit. Harry turned back to look at Sirius.

"Yes."

"Here is what we have in mind."


	5. Acquiesce

_Because we need each other, we believe in one another..._

**July 26, 1995**

As she made her way down the winding path and the tiny cottage came into view, Minerva McGonagall girded herself for the slightly humiliating conversation about to happen. The phrases _I told you so_ and _took you long enough_ echoed in her mind.

But as uncomfortable and annoying as the discussion would be she knew it would pale in comparison to the one she'd had a few days prior with the Granger family. _Never again,_ she told herself as she knocked on the slightly smaller than normal door.

"Professor Minnie!" an aged but cheerful elf greeted her before quickly ushering her inside.

"Hello, Ranty. Are you having a nice summer?"

"Oh yes," Ranty replied with a fervent nod as she led her toward a nearby room. "Professor Filly is very quiet and does not make many messes. And he be always listening when Ranty tells him what to do."

"Ahh, Minerva," Filius Flitwick greeted as she entered the room, "normally you schedule your recruiting mission earlier in the summer. I was beginning to worry."

"Albus asked me to speak to you once again before term ended, but I declined," she replied. "Your four previous rejections were enough to chalk you up as a lost cause. I'm actually on a different recruiting mission today. It's to help protect a muggle student and her family."

Filius looked so smug. "Let me guess. It's a matter of grave importance but that's all you can share."

Minerva had no interest in being lectured again. "Several of us have formed a side group of sorts…to protect Hermione Granger and her parents."

Based on his expression it was clear that she'd caught Filius slightly by surprise. "Regardless of whether it is his main group or a side operation I'm not interested in joining anything led by Albus."

"Albus is unaware."

Now she really had his attention.

"You're saying that you have formed a splinter group under Albus' nose? Why?"

"I've already told you why, Filius. It's to protect a student and her family."

"I'm going to need more than that, Minerva," he replied.

This was the point where she would normally begin hemming and hawing and speaking gravely about the need for security and lives being at stake. Based on Filius' disaffected expression it was clearly what he was anticipating.

"Miss Granger has been visiting Mr. Potter over the summer at his muggle home in spite of Albus' instructions not to do so. While Albus is focused on discouraging her visits a few of us are trying to protect Miss Granger and her family should she be detected. Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley have already cast several protective charms on the Granger home and I've volunteered my services as well. I'm hoping you will agree to help with any other protections you think may be helpful."

Filius looked slightly gob smacked and she fought a smirk. He was so used to her obfuscations on behalf of Albus that her forthrightness seemed to be difficult for him to process.

"Who else knows about this?" he eventually asked.

She couldn't wait to tell him the next part. "Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley as I mentioned, two aurors that are also members of the Order, Arthur Weasley, and Harry's godfather, Sirius Black.

Filius let out a mild squeak of surprise and Minerva fought the urge to laugh.

"Sirius never betrayed the Potters…he was framed by Peter Pettigrew," she continued. "He was wrongly convicted and escaped Azkaban in order to track down Pettigrew."

"But he broke into Hogwarts-"

"Pettigrew was at Hogwarts, secretly hiding as a student's pet rat; Ron Weasley's pet rat to be specific."

Minerva decided to take mercy on her colleague and paused, letting him catch up with the information overload she had just barraged him with.

"So Harry's story, about the graveyard…Voldemort's resurrection," he prompted.

"It is all true. Peter Pettigrew escaped from Black near the end of Mr. Potter's third year and aided in Voldemort's resurrection during the third task."

"Where is Black now?" Filius asked.

"That I cannot share," she replied, drawing an annoyed glare from her colleague.

"So you are no different than Albus, trusting others only with enough facts to get what you want."

"Filius," she said, failing to stifle her own frustration, "I literally cannot tell you."

Recognition dawned on the diminutive professor's face. " _Fidelius_?"

She confirmed his speculation with a nod and slid a parchment across the table.

"This is a list of the spells that have already been cast on the Granger's home as well as those that I plan on adding myself. I'll be adding my enchantments tomorrow evening and would appreciate your input and assistance."

She watched as Filius surveyed the list in consideration. There was so much history…so much frustration…with the headmaster. She'd hoped he would be eager to help but she understood his reluctance.

"As I said, I am not here at Albus' request. I am here asking for your help on behalf of the Grangers. They've risked their own safety to help Harry and I simply want to lend as much assistance as I can."

Filius sat back and steepled his fingers.. "How have they helped Harry?"

This was it. The point where she would be sharing things strictly forbidden by the headmaster. She'd already skirted along the edges of what could and should be shared but from this point on she would be taking a colossal leap over the edge. She'd hoped to avoid it but Filius was too skeptical not to try and glean as much information as possible. And once the dam had been unplugged there would be no end to the torrent of questions from her diminutive colleague.

She thought back to that night at Privet Drive so many years ago, how her instincts had screamed _this is not right_ and how she had ultimately ceded to Albus' instruction despite how very _not right_ it felt. How she'd been suppressing similar feelings off and on for the subsequent fourteen years because it had been the easiest, safest option. She was tired of not acting on what felt right.

"Harry has been forced to stay with his relatives due to the protections in place there meant to ensure his safety. Lily's sister, Harry's Aunt and Uncle, are awful…at best ambivalent to him and at worst purposely cruel. They detest magic and anything associated with it as well. Because of this and other security concerns he has been isolated from his friends and loved ones this summer. Albus has insisted it must be done for his safety."

She could see Filius' anger rising once again. "So you are saying the horrific stories that have been shared about the graveyard are true…and Mr. Potter has been left to deal with it on his own?"

"Not quite," she replied. "Miss Granger disagreed with Albus' advice and has been visiting Harry on a weekly basis with her parents blessing. Despite several of us attempting to dissuade her she has refused. We believe that sort of loyalty and bravery deserves any assistance we can offer."

"Albus knows nothing about this?"

"Correct."

"Because you are opting for the 'better to ask for forgiveness instead of permission' approach?"

"That is a fair assessment," she replied with a smile.

After several moments of consideration Filius muttered something about Gryffindors under his breath as he pulled out a blank piece of parchment and began writing out a list.

"Ranty!" Filius called once he'd finished his work.

"Yes, Professor Filly?"

"When you have a few moments could you go to Hogwarts and retrieve these books from my office?" he asked, handing the parchment to the elf.

Ranty's eyes bulged as she read the list. "Ranty does not want to know what Professor Filly and Professor Minnie is up to, does she?"

Filius chuckled. "Most likely, no. And you definitely should not be interested in why I will be away for several hours tomorrow night."

"Ranty doesn't want to know!" the elf exclaimed as she popped out of sight.

"Thank you, Filius," Minerva replied sincerely.

Filius smiled as he pulled out a bottle and two glasses. "You've taken away all my excuses," he replied. "Can't very well justify sitting on the sidelines by saying I don't know the facts any more now, can I?"

He quickly poured them two drinks and slid one across the table. Minerva couldn't help but chuckle when Filius raised his glass in a toast.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You've unwittingly sorted out the initiation procedure for all new members of the Granger Initiative Taskforce," she supplied as she raised her glass and tapped it against Filius' drink.

"That is a horrible name," Filius observed after downing his drink. Seconds later it appeared that he sorted out the accompanying acronym and burst out into laughter.

"You can blame Sirius Black for the ridiculous name," she supplied.

"We could use more _ridiculous_ these days," he observed as he refilled their glass. "Let's go over what I have in mind and then you can fill in the blanks about what has been going on in the castle the last few years…"

**August 12, 1995**

As 12 Thornbrook Lane came into view Minerva girded herself for the terse and skeptical reception she was sure awaited her on the other side. The last time she had visited this home things had not gone well, at all. And the worst part was she had been entirely at fault. Being on the receiving end of a lecture in front of one of her favorite students had been disconcerting and disheartening. She'd done her best over the last few weeks to make up for her poor decisions but knew she had a long way to go, most especially in the minds of the two muggles she would be spending the morning with.

She'd barely had to wait a second after ringing the doorbell before it was opened, revealing Jane Granger. She wasn't smiling but she didn't look particularly angry either. Minerva mused that was the best she could have hoped for all things considered.

"Please come in, Professor," Jane greeted, escorting her to their sitting room where her husband was waiting. He was holding a familiar looking ball.

"Is that a sneakoscope?" she asked.

"Yes," David Granger supplied. "Hermione gave it to us a few Christmases back. She said it would help suss out the untrustworthy sort. Congratulations, it looks like you've passed the test," he complimented as the magical device remained blessedly silent.

So they still didn't trust her despite Bill's assurances. She couldn't blame them she supposed. This was quite an about face from their last discussion less than three weeks prior.

"I would like to apologize for my actions last month, but you can rest assured that we are on the same side. Harry's side," she stated, silently relieved as the sneakoscope sat quietly in David Granger's hand.

"Right," David continued as he stowed the orb in his pocket and stood. "I suppose we should be going," he continued as he placed a nearby carrier on the floor beside her.

"So that's to be my carriage for the morning," she observed.

"Crookshanks has never complained so I reckon it's all right. I hope you don't get car sick," David added as he opened the door and stood back.

"Not at all," she reassured. "But you are right. We should get going. I trust you have the mirror?"

Jane pulled Sirius' gift out of her purse and held it up for her inspection. "I believe we have a thirty minute drive ahead of us?" she asked, drawing two affirming nods.

"Remember, if you sense any danger, just unlatch the cage. It is very unlikely anything will happen but please remain vigilant. If I spot anything suspicious I will do my best to warn you."

She quickly transformed into a cat and sidled into the carrier, unconsciously purring at the blanket they had graciously provided for her to lie down on. All things considered this was not a bad place to relax for a few hours.

* * *

After thirty minutes of sitting in the Underground station Minerva was keenly aware that Muggles could be quite loud…and they always seemed to be in such a hurry. She was roused from her musings by the voice of Bill Weasley. "We'll be coming into your stop any moment now. Number Five."

"Here we go," David muttered, "time to look not terrified on Harry's behalf." The train roared into the station and they walked along the platform, quickly finding The Number Five car.

"There he is," Jane mumbled under her breath and they quickly bustled down the aisle. David placed her carrier on the bench beside him and angled it slightly to the right, bringing Harry into view. Despite Harry's best efforts to appear calm, his nervousness was apparent. It was an expression she had seen on his face far too often over the years.

Arthur was doing most of the talking while Harry replied occasionally with short answers and nods. It was clear that Arthur was doing his best to be cheerful and casual in an effort to take Harry's mind off of his hearing and it seemed to be working to some extent. After several moments Arthur spotted them and leaned toward Harry, casually saying something under his breath, drawing a curious look from the boy.

Harry scanned the carriage and finally spotted them, instantly becoming a mixture of pleased and embarrassed. Arthur must have told him not to wave or acknowledge their presence as he quickly looked away before shooting them another surreptitious glance a few moments later.

"I told you he would be embarrassed," Jane supplied.

"Good," David answered, "better embarrassed than panicked or miserable."

She "meowed" her agreement as loud as she could manage, drawing chuckles from the pair.

"Thank you, professor," Jane stated as Minerva kept her eyes on Harry. It was probably her hopeful imagination but he looked a bit more relaxed now. It was amazing how small gestures meant so much to those who'd rarely experienced them.

They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes until the train screeched to a stop. This was Harry's stop.

She heard Dan Granger say "we promised we wouldn't, Jane" and looked to see his arm now gently resting on her arm. Her guess was Jane wanted to say something to Harry...words of encouragement most likely. It would have been foolish and rash and Jane Granger did not strike her as either of those things, but for Harry it appeared she was willing to make an exception. Harry glanced their way once again as he exited onto the platform and she realized how much better she felt at being a bit foolish and rash.

Several minutes later she was quite confused as they seemed to be carrying her out of the station and back into the streets of London. The plan had been very clear: board a train that would take them back to their starting part and walk back to the Grangers' car.

"Don't worry, professor. David and I haven't forgotten the plan, we've just come up with a different one," Jane stated as they turned into a nearby alley. Once they'd progressed a bit further out of sight her carrier was placed on the ground and the door was quickly unlatched and opened. After exiting and checking that the coast was clear she quickly transformed.

"What is this new plan?" she asked in annoyance. She really disliked when people strayed from the plan.

"We want you to apparate us back to the car," David replied simply.

"This is highly inappropriate," she replied, "and we can't risk being seen."

Jane Granger shot her a look remarkably similar to Hermione and she prepared herself for an explanation. "Bill explained that all you need to do is to visualize where you need to go. We were curious how it worked and Bill assured us you would be happy to show us."

Bill Weasley. She should have known. "Did he explain that some people feel quite unwell afterward?"

"Oh, yes," David answered. "A little vomiting seems a small price to pay to experience instant transportation."

"I'm assuming that is why you parked so far away from everyone else at the station?" she asked, receiving two affirming nods. They were truly Hermione's parents.

"Very well," she acquiesced and the pair quickly grabbed an arm. Bill must have taken them through the entire procedure. She would most definitely be having words with her former student.

"All set?" she asked, waiting on their eager nods before transporting them away. The nearby wood had been very convenient for the pair to quickly relieve the contents of their stomachs upon arrival. They seemed much less embarrassed than the typical magical at not managing apparition well and she chalked it up to a lack of ego about such things.

"I can't wait until Hermione turns seventeen," David enthused.

"You know we frown on such displays around muggles," she reminded.

"Yes, yes, we know," he replied with a casual wave of his hands, "but we've waited years to see Hermione perform magic around us and plan on taking advantage of it."

She chuckled, once again being forcibly reminded that these were Hermione's parents. Before she could say her goodbyes they'd opened the boot of their car and had pulled out several bags.

"We have one more favor to ask," Jane supplied as she handed them over, "we'd like you to give these to Harry the next time you see him."

The bags were filled with assorted muggle clothing as well as several plastic containers that she believed were used to play muggle music.

"If he tries to refuse, don't let him. Hermione said you are good at ordering them around," David joked.

Minerva nodded her agreement and quickly said her goodbyes to the Grangers. The original plan was to apparate directly home but she decided a quick trip to Diagon Alley was in order. She recalled how worn Harry's Quidditch gloves had been in his third year and was fairly positive he hadn't thought to replace them since. A voucher to Quality Quidditch Supplies seemed like it would make a nice, belated birthday present.

She pushed back on the niggling thought that at that very moment Harry may possibly be being expelled from Hogwarts. Harry _would_ be flying for Gryffindor in a few weeks time.

**August 18, 1995**

Minerva did her best to calm herself as she waited for Albus to emerge from her floo. Based on his actions over the last few months she was fairly positive what this _discussion_ regarding her prefect assignments would entail…what every discussion seemed to center around these days. Harry Potter.

She had been the head of Gryffindor house for several decades and her prefect appointments had never warranted a personal visit to discuss her selections,let alone a discussion within minutes of her submission. She was thoroughly unsurprised.

The last month had truly brought about an odd turn of events. Once she had pulled off the veil she had purposely put on regarding her own decision making as it related to Dumbledore, it had been very difficult to place it back. Her thoughts which in the past had automatically drifted to _the headmaster knows best_ and _Harry has always proven to be resilient_ had reversed course, demanding her to think about how many things had been missed, purposely or otherwise, the last few years. And just because Harry had been magnificently resilient didn't justify sitting by and watching as his resiliency was needlessly tested again.

The floo flared to life and the headmaster emerged just as she was pouring them tea. She fought the urge to throw the kettle at her mentor for what she suspected he was about to do, settling instead for dropping his three customary sugars in his cup and taking a seat.

"I appreciate you having a few moments to see me at this late hour," he greeted warmly before taking a sip of the proffered tea,

"It is fine, Albus," she replied, doing her best to smile pleasantly in return. She wanted to get the formalities over as quickly as possible and dove right in. "I was just planning on doing a bit of reading before turning in. I've got a busy day tomorrow now that the Head and Prefect assignments have been sorted."

Albus' smile grew the tiniest bit congenial and she knew what was coming.

"That is the reason for my visit, actually. I'd like to discuss your fifth year assignments before everything becomes 'official' as they say," he supplied pleasantly.

"Given Miss Granger's performance in the classroom and her and Mr. Potter's services to the school they are clearly the obvious choice. Probably the easiest choice I've had in the last decade. And it goes without saying that they make an excellent team," she added unnecessarily.

Their teamwork over the summer had caused the headmaster myriad headaches, headaches that she was now actively participating in bringing about. She suspected he would have a doozy after this conversation was over.

"Yes, yes, it goes without saying that those two would make an excellent pair. My concerns lie more with Harry's state of mind this upcoming term."

And there it was. She thought he might try to change the wording a bit…to pretend that he wasn't trotting out the same vague excuse…but he'd gone to old reliable. It was _for Harry_ , as was his need to stay at Privet Drive over the summer, and why the original plan was to leave him there for several days after the Dementor attack before GIT had foiled it spectacularly. She'd heard a decades worth of _it's for Harry's_.

Sometimes she accepted it immediately…sometimes she pushed back for a bit…but she'd always acquiesced. _For Harry_ was the reason she had convinced herself that she was doing the right thing in the past. She had been lying to herself about who it was really for but she was done with that now. It was time to start pushing back, really pushing back, and doing what was right rather than what was easy. For Harry.

"Without more information I'm afraid I don't agree, Albus," she began, causing one of his eyebrows to rise ever so slightly. Normally at this point she would be asking questions for him to volley away, not making declarative statements. It felt good.

"Minerva," he began once again, now in a much graver tone, "there are things regarding Harry's future…things that I cannot share with you…that I believe will be taking a toll on him mentally in the coming months. And we've spoken before of why I must isolate myself from the boy…this connection he has with Voldemort. I fear Harry's reactions over the coming months could be unpredictable."

 _An interesting pivot_ , she surmised. In the past he'd waved off concerns for the stress Harry had endured, citing Harry's tremendous resolve, pure heart, and innate ability to do the right thing when it most mattered. But now he had reversed tactics. She ignored it and plowed on.

"The prophecy, it's about Harry then," she stated matter of factly, "and you are thinking he will not take it well once he learns its contents." They'd talked around the topic since Voldemort's resurrection but this was her chance to hopefully get more answers.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. He was quite good at nodding gravely to get his way. Unfortunately for him she knew all of his tricks.

"I'm hoping to avoid forcing Harry to deal with that revelation this year but I fear it is only a matter of time. And I am sure he is still processing the horrible incidents at the end of term. The burden would be too much for even Harry to bear."

Albus kept talking for a bit about the tragedy of it all but she'd tuned him out and waited for her chance to respond, her reply prepared long ago. She loved using his words against him.

"Well, as you've said repeatedly Mr. Potter has amazing resiliency and always seems to make the right decision when it comes to the important things. But I do understand your concern…"

She let her friend have a brief moment of triumph before continuing.

"So I think I will pay a visit to Grimmauld tomorrow and leave it up to him. I will explain the responsibilities that the position entails and your concerns. I think he's earned a bit of honesty and faith at this point, don't you?"

The headmaster appeared to have something to say but stopped himself. Apparently he had decided any further arguments were a lost cause without providing more facts, facts that he was clearly still not willing to share. Minerva fought the urge to frown at Albus' continued hording of secrets.

"Thank you, Minerva," he replied kindly as he stood to leave, "although I believe it will be a lost cause once young Harry finds out that Miss Granger would be his partner."

 _You have no idea,_ she mused as Albus disappeared through the fireplace. Based on the GIT's reports on the pair's 'homework sessions' she was positive those two would be spending every patrol together.

**August 27, 1995**

As she entered Grimmauld Place, Minerva did her best to calm her nerves. She was the matriarch of the group, the one that the others expected to be calm and considered. It would do her (or Harry) no good to turn into an emotional ninny at this point. She'd willingly signed up for GIT and they were on the threshold of something monumental. It was imperative that she kept a level head for her two younger compatriots. Besides, the plan was brilliant in its simplicity and as she gazed at the ethereal beauty in front of her, she realized it was bound to work. The newest initiate into GIT was their secret weapon.

"Miss McGonagall!" Fleur Delacour enthused as she glided toward her, ignoring the now slightly dazed young man she passed along the way. "It is good to see you again!"

"Hello Miss Delacour," she greeted. "Are you enjoying your extended stay in England?"

She nodded happily. "My work at Gringotts has been very interesting and has made up for the horrid English summer weather," she concluded.

Minerva did her best to ignore the thinly veiled insult and focused on the group sitting at the end of the table. Sirius and Hermione were doing their best to not appear nervous. Sirius seemed to be managing it relatively well but Miss Granger was struggling. Mightily.

Harry, however, simply seemed determined…much more confident and calm than his disposition on the tube a couple weeks prior. "We should get going, Harry," she informed, purposely using his first name for a bit of personal reassurance. She had no idea if it would work but Albus seemed to think it was effective. He nodded his head and quickly moved to stand beside her.

"You both know the plan?" She received two fervent nods.

"And you have your cloak?" Harry held up the magical artifact for her inspection.

"Then we best be off!" she intoned with as much confidence as she could muster, drawing nods once again from the pair. Harry nodded to his godfather and girlfriend before quickly following her out of the kitchen.

* * *

They'd made it into the Ministry without a hitch and were now walking toward the security desk. Based on the now bulging eyes of the guard on duty, Kingsley's prediction had been correct. She heard Fleur's chuckle of acknowledgement and did her best not to laugh. "This will not be a problem," Fleur commented absently.

"Tap the mirror," Harry" she murmured as they approached Fleur's prey.

"Hello, Malcolm!" Minerva greeted her thoroughly distracted former student. "This is Fleur Delacour. I trust that Miss Delacour is on your schedule?"

"Uh, yes. Hello professor," he managed to spit out eventually. "I'm assuming you are here for your…uh…meeting?"

"Oui…I mean, yes," Fleur replied in false embarrassment as she shyly tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "I am zorry. I am ztill getting used to zee English language."

Minerva fought the urge to laugh at the sudden thickness of Fleur's accent. Malcolm didn't seem to be about to laugh though. She wasn't sure if it was possible to laugh with his mouth hanging down to the floor. She hadn't done much research into Veela magic but whatever it involved it seemed to be working magnificently on poor Malcolm.

"I, uh, have to inspect you," he managed, bumping his knee rather loudly as he made his way around the security desk. Malcolm let out a rather loud gulp as he began waving his examination rod in front of and behind Fleur. Fleur's posture was excellent and Malcolm seemed to be sweating more and more the longer the inspection lasted.

"Minerva!" Kingsley greeted right on cue from down the hallway. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Kingsley," she greeted, "Miss Delacour is new to England and I offered to escort her to the Ministry."

"Odd day for a meeting," Kingsley observed as he nodded a greeting. "You were the TriWizard Champion for Beauxbatons, right?"

Everyone was playing their part and following the script expertly in spite of the fact that it most likely was a moot point. Malcolm seemed so flummoxed by his inspection that she wasn't sure he had processed anything being said.

"Would you mind showing me where to go? Zis place is zo confusing!" Fleur asked Malcolm, drawing a grimace. It was clear that Malcolm wanted nothing more than to escort Fleur and was facing a conundrum. "I'm not supposed to leave my desk."

"I've got it, "Malcolm," Kingsley offered. "You help Fleur and I'll watch the desk while I catch up with Minnie. Nothing happens here on Sundays anyways."

The look on Malcolm's face suggested he was now thinking of naming his firstborn son after Kingsley. He was so ecstatic that Minerva wondered if the name 'Kingsley' would still be in play even if he had a daughter.

"Well that worked spectacularly," Minerva observed with a laugh.

"A little too well. I need to study up on Veela," Kingsley mumbled as he shook the cobwebs out of his head. "You two best be going. Arthur is on duty right now so we're all set. I trust you know the way?"

With a quick nod she and her invisible companion set off for the Department of Mysteries.

* * *

The tension was palpable as she, Sirius and Hermione huddled around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. All eyes were pinned on Harry as he removed the prophecy orb from his pocket and placed it on the table.

Every silencing and locking spell imaginable had been cast and Kreacher had been ordered to keep anyone and everyone out until he received further instructions. Minerva wasn't quite sure why or how she had earned this extraordinary amount of trust from Harry but she vowed never to forget it.

"So I just need to break it, right?" he asked. Not surprisingly Harry's eyes were drawn to Hermione for the answer.

"Now that you've touched it, it can be any of us," she supplied, "but yes. Once it's broken we should all hear the prophecy."

"Remember, Harry," Sirius added nervously, "Minnie and I can listen to it first if you don't think you're ready."

It was the proper and kind thing to do but Minerva knew that Harry would decline. It wasn't in his nature to run away from a fight…a truly magnificent and horrible trait to possess. She felt that she should make one final attempt at her prior suggestion as well.

"If you wish for us to take a vow-"

'"No," he interrupted forcefully, never taking his eyes off of the globe. "No. I trust you."

It was at that point that Minerva's loyalties unequivocally and unreservedly shifted to Harry and Harry alone. This boy who trusted her despite her many prior failures. She would not let him down again.

"I can do it if you'd like, Harry," Sirius offered. Harry nodded his agreement and Sirius reached forward, picking up the orb with slightly trembling hands.

"Whatever it says we'll sort it out," Hermione consoled as she reached for Harry's hand.

"Yeah, what she said," Sirius added as he waited for Harry's signal to proceed.

As she watched Harry's nod she felt a keen sense of pride at his ability to always do what was right over what was easy. The conversation she would be having with Albus informing him of the day's events would surely be difficult but it was the least she could do. For Harry.


	6. Talk Tonight

_You and me see how we are..._

**August 28, 1995**

"Could you please stop that?" Minerva asked in annoyance as they waited for the arrival of Albus Dumbledore.

"Stop what?" Sirius asked. He could really use a drink…or a muggle cigarette. Either would be good. Both would be better.

"Stop tapping the table, stop bobbing your knees up and down. Pull yourself together," she admonished.

"Right," he muttered, forcing himself to calm. "Right."

Seconds later Minerva was glaring at him once again. "It does no good for you to stop if you begin again seconds after you've stopped."

"Sorry!" he replied, placing both hands on his knees in an effort to _force_ himself to comply.

"Honestly!" she exclaimed in frustration, "you'd think you'd never spoken to Albus before."

"My nerves have nothing to do with Dumbledore," he retorted.

Minerva immediately softened. "Harry," she stated simply.

Sirius nodded. "I'm out of my depth here," he confessed. He felt like such an idiot since they'd heard the prophecy; a mute, useless idiot.

"We all are, Sirius," she lamented.

Dumbledore entered the room and Sirius' nerves morphed into anger…a preemptive emotional strike against the guilt trip and lecture that he knew would be delivered over the next few minutes. It felt good to have a target to direct his frustrations at. He steeled himself and remembered the agreement with Minerva to let her do the talking.

"Good afternoon," the man greeted them kindly as he took a seat, "I think it would be best if we cut to the chase, as they say. Your message sounded quite urgent, Minerva."

"Yes," she began unceremoniously, "we wanted to inform you that several members of the Order have been working to assist Harry and the Grangers over the last month."

Dumbledore's eyebrow rose. "I'm assuming the members who escorted Harry from Privet Drive are part of this group?"

Minerva nodded. "In addition to _rescuing_ Harry that night we've taken it upon ourselves to protect the Granger household-"

"Should have been done long before now," Sirius interjected, drawing a scowl from his colleague. He realized he'd done the exact thing he promised that he _wouldn't_ do; make unnecessary, emotional comments.

"As I was saying," she continued, "we've done our best to protect the Grangers, and yesterday afternoon a group of us assisted Harry."

That got the man's attention.

"We informed you last week of the dreams Harry has been having," she continued. "It was fairly easy to deduce from what Harry shared that he was seeing the Department of Mysteries. Our group shared with Harry what his visions represented and informed him of the prophecy that we've been guarding. We then offered our help to retrieve the prophecy if he wanted to hear its contents. Harry accepted our offer. We retrieved the prophecy yesterday and a smaller group of us listened to the prophecy last night."

It was petty and unproductive and all the other selfish, immature things you could label it, but Sirius reveled in Dumbledore's shocked and angered expression. As he watched the aged man attempt to control his rage it was also clear why Voldemort feared him.

"Who knows of the prophecy's contents?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"Harry, the two of us, and Miss Granger," Minerva answered calmly.

The rather short list seemed to ease the Headmaster's concerns slightly. _Always obsessed with keeping secrets_ , Sirius mused.

"You have been extremely reckless," he admonished as he stood and began pacing the room. Sirius wanted to respond but the warning glare from McGonagall was enough to keep his mouth shut. She'd warned him this would happen and that the best way forward was to handle it how Dumbledore managed it when someone was angry. Remain calm and wait for the angered party to get it out of their system before continuing on.

"This connection that Harry shares with Voldemort…it is clear to me that Harry saw those visions of the Department of Mysteries in his dreams because Voldemort is obsessed with the prophecy. I do not believe Voldemort is aware of this connection but if he does it could be exploited," the headmaster stated gravely.

"Define _exploited,"_ Sirius interjected.

"He could send false thoughts, attempt to drive Harry mad with horrific visions, invade his mind in an attempt to learn anything and everything he knows, including the prophecy. You've potentially handed the prophecy to Voldemort on a silver platter. It is only his ignorance of this connection that has bought us a reprieve." He sounded so disappointed in them. Sirius' blood boiled.

"When we told you about Harry's dreams all you did was nod your head and say 'interesting' and that you had to think on it. If you were so concerned why haven't you shared this with the Order?" he asked.

Apparently this interjection was wholly approved by Minerva as her glare was now firmly directed at the headmaster instead of him.

"I was worried it would be too much to burden Harry with-"

"When then?" Sirius interrupted. "Was the plan to guard the Department of Mysteries for years?"

"I was hoping to wait until a friendlier administration was in place at the Ministry. With this in place we could work together to secure the prophecy and share its contents with Harry once he was in a better state of mind."

Sirius felt his anger coming to a boil…now firmly directed at himself for waiting so long to take action on Harry's behalf.

"Your plan was to wait it out until Fudge got his head out of his arse or got kicked out of office? And for Harry to someday be in a better mood despite our best efforts to keep him miserable?"

"Sirius-"

He ignored Minerva's attempt to stop him and plowed forward. "It seems you've done your best not to notice, but we've helped Harry's _state of mind_ greatly over the last two months. Now that _we've_ helped Harry _and_ executed an actual plan to retrieve the prophecy what do you _suggest_ we should do next?"

Dumbledore reclaimed his seat and gazed at them seriously, purposely ignoring the myriad veiled insults Sirius had levied at him. "We must continue our secret guard at the Department of Mysteries. The longer that Voldemort believes the prophecy is available and untouched, the better. I trust you have replaced the actual prophecy with a suitable decoy?"

Minerva's withering look was all the answer the headmaster needed that they'd had the foresight to take such action. Dumbledore quickly moved on.

"Harry must learn and master Occlumency. It is imperative that he block the connection from Voldemort's prying eyes."

Finally, an actual plan from Dumbledore. Something to help Harry. It was about fucking time.

"I imagine Harry is quite upset at the revelation of his destiny, so expecting him to concentrate on such a task over the next few days would be useless. I would suggest he begin instruction once he returns to Hogwarts in a few days."

The logic was sound; let Harry come to grips with what he'd learned, inform him of the next steps, give him a task and goal to work towards. Based on Minerva's expression she agreed as well.

"I would suggest we also include Miss Granger in the instruction," she interjected, "she seems to bring out the best in Harry. At the very least she will help mitigate Mr. Potter's tendency to not push himself. I'm assuming you will be handling the instruction personally?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "If Voldemort were to learn of our close relationship before Harry had disciplined his mind I fear that young Harry could be used as a weapon against me. It is the reason I have avoided him this summer."

"Is there an actual reason you chose not to share any of this with us before now?" Sirius asked, his annoyance growing.

"So who then?" McGonagall interrupted, clearly doing her best to keep the conversation moving forward.

"Severus is quite skilled-"

Sirius was all set with an indignant reply but was beat to the punch.

"No."

"Minerva," Dumbledore pleaded. "It must be someone in the Order and Severus is by far the most skilled Occlumens in our ranks. I will speak with him about moderating his behavior-"

Sirius barked out a laugh. " _Moderating his behavior_ ," he muttered derisively, "say it for what it is without the pretty words. He's awful, petty and cruel. I couldn't think of a worse person for Harry to have to work with."

"Severus has put himself at great risk on our behalf and he has my trust."

"Well bully for him," Sirius replied, "that doesn't change the fact that he treats Harry as if he were James and he was still fifteen."

"I believe Severus will listen to reason and, as I said, he is the only true option."

"Filius," McGonagall replied simply, "we can ask him to instruct Harry."

Suddenly Dumbledore returned to form as he shot Minerva _that_ look. The look that screamed _you are silly and naïve and I know better._ That look really pissed him off.

"Minerva," he began kindly, in _that_ voice, "Filius has repeatedly declined to join the Order. The more people who know, the greater the risk, especially those not in our confidence."

"Well then we're all set because Filius is already a part of GI- our group," Sirius replied, barely concealing his glee, "he already knows of the prophecy."

Dumbledore quickly recovered at the momentary shock of hearing Sirius' revelation before replying. "Regardless of what Filius knows at this point it wouldn't be prudent for another person to learn of the actual prophecy. He will undoubtedly learn it when he probes Harry's mind."

"Exactly how is Snape, the man who interacts with Voldemort on an almost daily basis, a better option to learn the contents of the prophecy?" Sirius asked. "I feel much more comfortable with Filius knowing rather than Snape, and I'm sure Harry would agree."

Dumbledore's logic didn't make sense and based on the man's expression at the moment he knew it.

"I trust Severus," was all that Dumbledore was willing to offer.

"And we trust Filius," Sirius countered forcefully, allowing a bit of his anger to seep through once again.

The Headmaster leveled him with _that_ look and seemed ready with an annoyingly pleasant retort, but the man's rebuttal was lost to time as Minerva settled the debate before he could speak.

"What seems to get lost, what _always_ seems to get lost, in these conversations, is Harry. The boy just found out he is to be our savior or die trying, and the last thing he needs now is to be patted on the head and handed off to Severus while we hope for the best. Sirius and the others formed their group to ensure it would never happen again."

Sirius wanted to correct her and point out that Hermione and her parents had formed the first group for Harry but he held his tongue. It was clear that Minerva's words had affected Dumbledore and he didn't want to muck it up.

Dumbledore finally nodded his agreement and stood. "Thank you for informing me of the recent events. I think Harry and Miss Granger receiving advanced instruction in Charms should be a suitable excuse for their clandestine meetings. We will have to proceed cautiously. Dolores will no doubt be suspicious of any additional tuition Harry receives."

"Who the hell is Dolores?" Sirius asked.

Minerva looked as if she'd just smelled something foul. "Miss Umbridge is to be the new Defence instructor next term, appointed personally by Minister Fudge."

Dumbledore continued the explanation. "It is clear to me that she's to be Fudge's eyes and ears within Hogwarts. Keeping an eye on me, and Harry as well I suspect, while she parrots the Ministry's position on Voldemort's return."

"So she'll be the Hogwarts version of _The Daily Prophet_ , telling anyone and everyone that you've lost it and Harry is delusional," Sirius surmised.

"A depressing but accurate assessment," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "So it will be imperative that Harry does his best not to respond to the insults and comments that will be levied his way once he returns to school."

"So a typical year for Harry then," Sirius muttered in frustration. No matter how much he tried it seemed he was helpless in stemming the cycle of undeserved misery that was Harry's life.

"Sirius will inform Harry and Miss Granger of the plan and I will speak to Filius," Minerva instructed. "Miss Granger's scores in Charms are excellent and Filius has made more than one comment over the years on Harry's untapped potential on the subject. He could even integrate some actual advanced Charms instruction to provide proof should Dolores make any inquiries."

"A splendid idea," Dumbledore concurred. "Between you, me, and Severus, we should be able to paint a very convincing picture."

"Snape doesn't get to know," Sirius interjected.

"Sirius-"

"Don't tell me again that you trust him. I don't care. He has nothing to do with this and there is no need for him to know."

Dumbledore nodded tiredly once again.

"I don't suppose Filius would agree to join the Order?"

"He's made it quite clear he is only interested in assisting the students," Minerva replied, "and he remains adamantly against your _management style_. I will ask but I expect him to decline the offer once again."

For the first time since the meeting began Dumbledore allowed himself a smile. "I confess it is the exact reaction I would have if I were in his situation. If I may ask, how did you manage to retrieve the prophecy without being detected?"

Minerva smiled. "I'm not sure if you are aware but Fleur Delacour has moved to London and has started a relationship Bill Weasley. You are aware of the requirement that all magical _creatures_ are required to submit themselves for an interview and to be registered at the Ministry?"

"A particularly ridiculous piece of legislation, one that Miss Umbridge had a hand in getting through the Wizengamot," Dumbledore observed before waiting for her to continue.

"Miss Delacour had thus far refused to report for the requested meeting and had repeatedly complained to Mr. Weasley about it. It was Bill's idea to use the Ministry's own policies against them, and once he explained his idea Miss Delacour happily agreed to help Harry."

"So Harry's nobility during the Second Task wasn't in vain," Dumbledore observed. "And the plan?"

"She requested a meeting on Sunday, citing her work requirements during the week and her desire not to be ogled like an animal in a zoo. The head of the Magical Creatures department disagrees with the policy and was happy to come in on Sunday to accommodate Fleur once Arthur shared her concerns. I escorted Miss Delacour to the Ministry under the guise of helping a young woman navigate the unfamiliar London streets. Miss Delacour then used her Veela charm to convince the security guard to escort her to the meeting while I went with Harry, under his invisibility cloak, to retrieve the prophecy."

Dumbledore looked impressed. "So the Ministry only believes Miss Delacour was there yesterday while you-"

"Waited patiently in the lobby to escort her home once the meeting ended." Minerva smiled. "She was quite nervous about finding her way back to the lobby and convinced Malcolm to wait for her and escort her back. Either Fleur's Veela power is quite something or Malcolm is particularly desperate, either way it worked flawlessly. Harry and I were able to retrieve the prophecy and make it back to the lobby with plenty of time to spare. Kingsley actually sat with Malcolm for a bit after they returned so he could gather his wits."

"A well thought out plan," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle before becoming serious once again. "How is Harry handling the news?"

Minerva waited for him to speak on the subject. It made sense; he was Harry's godfather after all. He felt like such a fraud.

"I think he's still processing it. He did his best to put on a happy face last night but this morning he was very quiet. I've tried to talk with him a few times but he isn't interested. I think he's spent most of the day helping clean the house as a distraction."

He was such a liar. He hadn't tried a few times to talk to Harry. He'd made one half-hearted attempt before fleeing when Harry had rebuffed him with his typical 'I'm fine."

Sirius knew he wasn't fine…no-one could be fine after receiving that sort of news. But because he was terrified on Harry's behalf and couldn't think of a thing he could say or do to help, he nodded his head, patted his shoulder, and fled. Sirius told himself he would try again that night, after supper. Waiting until after supper had nothing to do with him wanting to put it off as long as possible…definitely not.

* * *

Harry was nowhere to be found at supper and Hermione was there in body only. It was clear she was upset. Once again it seemed that Hermione had been attempting to do the heavy lifting that should have fallen to him…and once again he had let her.

After a few minutes of barely attempting to actually eat something, Hermione stood to leave. Ginny moved to follow but a few muttered words later the youngest Weasley retook her place at the table…looking lost and confused. He gazed around the table and saw that Ron and the twins wore similar expressions. After spending the entire summer doing their best to get a taste of the war it was clear they weren't prepared for the awful reality. None of them were.

He realized any semblance of his appetite had disappeared as well quickly left the room. Before he could talk himself out of it he found himself in front of a second-floor bedroom, the quiet sobbing of a young girl emanating from the other side of the door.

"Hermione, it's Sirius. I'm coming in," he informed before he slowly creaked open the door.

She was lying on her bed with her back turned from the door. The crying had ceased but it was clear that she was trying to gather herself before letting him see her face.

"I upset Harry," she finally managed. "He kept saying he was fine but I kept trying to talk to him. After a while he got mad and stormed out. I went to get him for supper and he refused." She wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up.

"I know what he's doing…he's trying to handle everything himself. I normally would have let him get it out of his system but I pushed him this time. I thought…because of how much closer we've become this summer…I thought it would be different."

"It'll be alright," Sirius reassured. "He's probably feeling awful that he upset you."

"I didn't get upset in front of Harry," she answered. "I don't want to make things worse for him, so I'm getting it out of my system before I try talking to him again."

Sirius felt profoundly out of his depth as he thought about what these children had to manage at their age. It wasn't fair. Hermione should be getting upset over Harry spending too much time on Quidditch or some other equally ridiculous reason...not having to constantly navigate these horrific circumstances on his behalf. _On their behalf_ , he corrected. From the instant he'd met them in the Shrieking Shack it was abundantly clear that they were a team, whether Harry had realized it or not.

"Let me take a stab at it," Sirius answered as he stood. "In the meantime, I'll have Kreacher bring you some food. You need to eat." He wasn't sure if eating would help but it seemed like something a proper adult would say in this situation.

"That's not necessary," she replied, now much more determined and serious. This was how she handled it. She bottled up the terror and anxiety and uncertainty and forged forward…for Harry.

"It is necessary," he chided. "Have a bite, lie down, read a book…take an hour or two off and let me talk to Harry. You've managed this for four years; surely I can't muck up all your hard work over the next couple of hours, right?

Sirius could tell that Hermione was fighting her instincts to refuse once again and quickly track down Harry herself. He felt a tiny sense of accomplishment when she finally leaned back against the headboard, relaxed just a bit, and managed a smile. She nodded reluctantly in agreement.

"I can't believe that speech worked!" he joked, drawing a laugh from the girl. Another victory.

He was suddenly struck with an idea. "I'll be right back. Stay here!" he informed before quickly making his way to the Black library. After several minutes of searching, he found what he was looking for and returned.

The girl became instantly intrigued as he handed over the book. " _The Art of Occlumency_ ," she read aloud before looking back at him for clarification.

"This is something you and Harry will be learning once you're back at Hogwarts. I'll explain the _why_ and _how_ to you both later but I figured you could start reading up ahead of time.

Hermione's intrigue eventually turned to skepticism. "You're just trying to distract me."

"I thought that was rather obvious," he replied with a smile, "but I'm not lying. It is extremely important that Harry learns this; the sooner the better."

Apparently he'd said the magic words as Hermione eyes instantly returned to the tome and her fingers began tracing the letters on the cover. He could tell she was trying to sort out why this was a necessity for Harry. Sirius suspected she would have it figured out long before their actual discussion. As he made to leave he spotted a familiar object on her bedside table.

"Could I borrow that for a minute?"

* * *

Sirius took a breath and tapped the mirror with his wand before muttering the activation phrase. He felt a bit silly saying "Mum and Dad" but he'd done far more stupid things over the years for far less important reasons. He found himself unconsciously smoothing his hair and making sure his shirt was straight as Jane Granger appeared.

"Sirius? What's happened? Where is Hermione?"

"Hermione is fine, everyone is fine," he lied. "I was hoping I could speak to David?"

Jane looked like she wanted to say something but held her tongue, probably realizing David would tell her everything later regardless of whatever she'd be able to pry out of Sirius at the moment. "Just a second," she finally replied with a smile. Seconds later an equally confused David Granger appeared.

"Everything alright?" he managed.

"Yes and no," he began. "No-one's hurt and we actually learned a bit of information about Harry."

"Based on your expression I'm guessing Harry's not alright now because of this information?"

Sirius nodded.

"Is he cursed?" David prompted.

"More like destined for something," he supplied.

"Like 'the fate of the world is on his shoulders' kind of destined?"

Sirius nodded again.

"Is the fate of the world _really_ on Harry's shoulders or does he just think it is? Hermione said that Harry always feels like he has to-"

"It really is on his shoulders," Sirius interrupted, his heart sinking at having to verbalize that awful, inimitable fact.

"Well…shit," David replied, sounding very much like Sirius had been feeling over the last few hours.

After several seconds of silence David continued his questioning. "How is Harry handling it?"

"He's keeping to himself and saying he's fine even though he isn't. He skipped supper tonight and is holed up in his room."

"Hermione?"

"She's upset because Harry's upset and because she's worried for him. I distracted her by giving her a book about something he needs to learn."

David laughed. "You realize you've created a monster, right?"

"I'm not following," Sirius replied in confusion.

"Well I would suggest you find any and every book you have on the subject as soon as humanly possible or she will be pestering you until you do it. I can't tell you how many trips we made to that bookstore in Diagon Alley once she'd learned about magic."

David paused in contemplation. "But you didn't want to talk about Hermione, did you?"

"No, I'm looking for a bit of advice on how to talk to Harry. Lift his spirits…make him believe everything is going to be all right…proper parenting things."

David raised an eyebrow. "Are _you_ sure everything is going to be all right?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then forget about that one," David informed. "If Harry is anything like Hermione, he'll know immediately that you're feeding him a line and it will only set him off."

"I need to do something!" Sirius exclaimed. "Just tell me what you would do…that's all I'm asking. I'm always being accused of treating Harry like he's my best mate and we're back in school instead of his guardian. I can't fuck this up."

After a pause David replied. "So you're basically expecting me to offer the perfect advice to inspire a fifteen-year-old boy who just found out that he has to save everyone or die trying? Couldn't you have eased into it a bit with some easy questions? What are the popular trainers these days? How to have 'the talk'? Something non-life and death?"

Sirius laughed. "Well when you put it that way it sounds really bad. And in my defense, I'm in a bit of a time crunch. Brooding teenager with the fate of the world on his shoulders and all that…"

David laughed in return. "I have no idea what you should say to him but the fact that you were concerned enough to ask for advice means you're on the right track."

"That's it?" Sirius asked, "A bit underwhelming if I'm being honest."

"I can see why Hermione finds you aggravating sometimes."

"Wait, wh-"

"Here it is, the secret to parenting, are you ready?" David interrupted, waiting for Sirius' nod before continuing.

"The older your kids get the less it becomes about being their parent and more about being their friend. When they're infants and you're changing their nappies and having to feed them every few hours, that's proper parenting. When they get older then you _should_ be their friend.

"For fuc-"

"Let me finish," David snapped in a very Hermione-esque way and Sirius immediately quieted.

"The key is you have to be the super responsible friend that doesn't go along with the stupid friend's ideas. And your job is to convince Harry not to be or listen to the stupid friend."

"I knew there would be a catch," Sirius muttered.

"I'm guessing you were the stupid friend when you were younger?

"You have no idea."

"Well, those days are over. You need to be the serious friend now and if Harry doesn't listen to your advice and does something stupid, then you get to tell him how stupid he was and _then_ be the parent and ground him. There's one more bit, and from what I've heard this may be the most difficult part for you. You can't be stupid anymore...if you don't practice what you preach you're finished."

The advice made sense. His first thoughts were of Remus in their younger years. He was by far the most serious of the group but unfortunately, he didn't have the conviction to talk them out of anything. Suddenly he realized he had the perfect role model. James Potter had become the serious friend in sixth year and had grown exponentially into the role during their seventh year. Sirius thought briefly about his last horribly stupid and selfish act and how it had profoundly affected Harry…James's son…Lily's son. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

"Thanks" he answered sincerely. He was all set to say his goodbyes before David stopped him.

"For what it's worth I think you are selling yourself short. Hermione said you've really helped Harry over the last month. She even mentioned how much you helped her during Harry's hearing. The way she was smiling when she told me about your chess match, it made me a bit jealous if I'm being honest."

Sirius scoffed. "I just tried to be a…friend."

David laughed and Sirius realized that there was another fifteen-year-old at Grimmauld who desperately needed to talk to their parents, but was probably too afraid or unwilling to admit it. "Is Jane still around?" he asked.

"I'm here," Jane answered immediately and Sirius fought the urge to laugh. He should have known she'd be listening in on their conversation. Lily would have done the same thing.

"Stand by," he requested as he quickly made his way back to Hermione's room.

She was now at her desk, poring over the book he'd provided. Despite the fact that he'd left less than thirty minutes prior she'd already managed to fill a foot of parchment with notes. He made a mental note to scour the library once he'd finished talking to Harry for any other books on the Mind Arts…he should probably have Minerva do the same with the Hogwarts library.

Hermione was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't realize he had entered the room. She was slightly startled when he thrust the mirror in front of her.

"Talk to your parents," he commanded.

"Sirius!" she whispered urgently as she grabbed the mirror and placed it face down on the desk. "I can't share the prophecy with my parents! It's too risky!"

"It's my job to help Harry right now and it's your parents' job to help you. They want to help. Let them."

"I'm fine," Hermione lied horribly, "besides it doesn't matter. We need to help Harry."

"It does matter, Janey," Sirius replied in an effort to purposely annoy the girl. It worked spectacularly.

"Only _my parents_ are allowed to call me that," she snapped in a hiss.

"Then let them," he implored, gesturing toward the mirror. "Take a break from your reading and talk to your mum and dad. I've already supplied the basics of what's going on- "

He fought the urge to laugh at the angry glare the girl shot him.

"Don't give me that look! I didn't tell them anything specific…just that Harry had some awful shit dropped on him and that you're worried about it. And I promise, if you decide that I spilled too much then I will personally _Fidelius_ their house to keep them out of danger."

The last line earned him a small grin before Hermione glanced at the mirror. "You shouldn't use that sort of language in front of me, and you know you're not meant to leave the house…but thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied as he picked up the mirror and placed it back in her hands. "Talk to them or I will ensure everyone in this house will be calling you Janey by nightfall."

That earned a small laugh and he had the fleeting thought that maybe he wasn't as bad at this sort of thing as he'd suspected. Sirius waved goodbye and headed down the hall. He'd sorted out exactly what to say based on David's advice and it was time to find out how really _not bad_ he was.


	7. Whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after seven chapters and almost 40k words, this 'one-shot' draws to a close with this installment. I wanted to personally thank you for all the kind words of encouragement regarding this story. The first chapter (the part that was actually meant to be a one-shot) was written as a bit of self therapy to combat everything going on in the world this summer. It's a good feeling to know that a few of you out there got something positive out of it as well. While I'm not committing to a sequel at this point, I have a feeling that I will be coming back to this universe someday. Maybe a one-shot? :)
> 
> Finally, thanks to my beta Nauze. My apologies for making you hungry during the beta of this chapter!

_Whatever you say, whatever you do, I know it's alright_

**August 28, 1995**

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Harry had learned of his predestined fate, but in truth, it felt much longer. Much, much, longer. He felt Buckbeak nestle his head in a bit closer and began idly running his hands over the hippogriff's head, reveling in the softness and warmth of his feathers. Buckbeak gave an affirming noise of contentment and Harry dug his hand in a bit further, thankful for the company. He'd always wanted a dog growing up and reckoned this was as close as he was going to get for the foreseeable future. He tried to ignore the fleeting thought that his _foreseeable future_ was most likely going to be very short and, most likely, very bloody.

He was brought out of his brooding by a quick knock on the door before it was thrust open. It was Sirius, looking slightly worried and holding a plate. Buckbeak made a small noise of greeting as his godfather slumped down beside him and offered him the food.

"The next time you hide from us, could you at least do it on one of the lower floors? It's been a wrench trying to find you, and my knees are killing me," he said.

Harry chuckled. "You could have apparated," he replied as he took the offered plate.

"I wouldn't do that to Molly. She already thinks of me as a slightly older version of the twins, and I don't want to add to that perception by apparating from room to room."

"I think Fred and George are brilliant," Harry countered, a bit more angrily than he intended. He knew that Sirius didn't deserve that anger…that he was actually grateful for the help that his godfather had provided…but he couldn't help himself. It was why he'd shut himself up here in the first place. No-one else needed to have to worry or deal with what he'd discovered. It was his burden to bear.

Apparently Sirius didn't detect the anger or purposely chose to ignore it as he plowed on, pointing at the plate. "You should eat."

"I'm not hungry," Harry lied, placing the plate on his lap, amused at Buckbeak's intense interest in his supper.

He'd expected Sirius to call him on his lie, to point out that he hadn't eaten since noon and that it was a virtual impossibility that he didn't find the corned beef sandwich in front of him the least bit appetizing. But Sirius remained quiet, staring at the wall and leaning into Buckbeak's side.

"My parents chucked me in the summer after my sixth year? Did you know that?"

Harry shook his head no.

"I can't even remember what started it. We'd rowed so many times over the years that the arguments have all sort of faded together over the years. I probably said something stupid…I don't know. But this argument kept going and became much more personal; a kind of last stand."

Harry remained quiet, sensing how difficult it was for Sirius to share this particular memory.

"It had all been a bit of an abstract concept up to that point, I suppose. My parents had been upset from the off when I was sorted into Gryffindor and took up with the Potter _blood traitors_. I thought my parents' views on muggleborns were ridiculous and told them as much whenever the subject came up, but it was always a bit of a laugh for me…a way to feel superior and wind them up a bit. But that day, for whatever reason, our argument escalated, and my mother said I had to make a choice. 'It's either us or them' she said. She was furious, but I still didn't get it. I still thought it was a game. I thought there was no way they would throw me out. So I took a side, and they chucked me."

Buckbeak let out a wail of sympathy. Whether or not the hippogriff actually understood the words, it was clear that he felt the pain behind them.

Sirius shot him a weary smile. "Actually, I think I'm underselling it. Before she chucked me, Mummy tortured me with the _Cruciatus_ in front of Reg."

"Reg?"

"Regulus, my brother. He was younger and a bit more compliant to _the old ways_ than me, but he had a good heart. I suppose my dear old mum had given me up as a lost cause and wanted to show Reg what happened to boys who made poor choices. And fair play to her, because it worked. Reg joined up with Voldemort after he graduated. I tried to talk him out of it but he was too far gone at that point."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

Sirius waved it off. "Anyway, I'm not sure how I managed it, given what awful shape I was in at the time, but I was able to apparate to your Dad's house. James wasn't there, he was at Hogwarts learning that he was to be Head Boy, but your grandparents were home, thank Merlin."

Harry wondered what his grandparents looked like…whether they liked his mum…whether they would have liked him…so many unanswered questions and possibilities. All of them depressing and eternally out of reach.

"Your grandparents had James a bit later in life so they were older than most parents, and sick…very, very sick…with Dragon Pox. Do you know much about the disease?"

Harry shook his head no.

"Well if you're young it's usually not a problem; take a potion, have a lie-in for a few days and you're all set. But if you're older, and you're unlucky, it's a bit harder to fight off. And if you're older and really unlucky you can't fight it off. It doesn't kill you straight-away but it saps your strength, wears you down, and eventually, it kills you. They'd caught it while we were off at school in sixth year and hadn't been able to shake it. They looked a decade older than when I'd seen them the summer prior.

I tried apologizing for bothering them but your granddad just smiled…he had the kindest smile…then he told me to stop being a numpty, grabbed my bag, put his arm around me, and brought me inside. After I told them what happened your gran went off and started getting a room ready for me. I was confused because they had an elf to do those sorts of things. Her name was Jess and she was the opposite of Kreacher; loud and friendly…a bit bossy but always happy to help. Your granddad said it was a waste of time trying to stop her, because when it came to family, Mrs. Potter always insisted on doing things herself if she could manage it."

Harry assumed Sirius was telling this story in an effort to cheer him up, but unfortunately, it was having the opposite effect. Just more family he could have and should have known. More good people who would have loved him that he'd never met

"Well when old man Potter called me family, I lost it. I started bawling like a baby…so loud, in fact, that Mrs. Potter stopped fixing up my room and came running. You see, that's what families do, Harry. When one of them is struggling, they come running to help."

Harry suddenly realized what the point of this story was. He was all set to stop him but Sirius beat him to the punch

"Before you start, you're the one who is struggling, and as such, you don't get a say in the matter. Family gets to help, whether you want them to or not. That's the rule. It took me longer than it should have, but this is me coming to help."

"I'm fine, and you can't help," Harry said.

"No you're not. Everyone in this house isn't fine. I'm a sodding mess right now. You should have seen Molly jump out of her chair when I said I was fetching some supper for you. I've never seen someone pay that much attention to making a sandwich. She did that because she isn't fine and wants to do whatever she can to help. We all do."

He felt the now-familiar prickling at the corner of his eyes but stubbornly ignored it. He was fine. He was all set to try and inconspicuously wipe the moisture away when he was forcefully punched in the shoulder.

"Oi! Haven't you been listening? Molly put a lot of effort into that sandwich! Dig in."

Despite himself, Harry chuckled. He grabbed the sandwich and took a bite. It was good…his favorite, as a matter of fact.

"Anyway," Sirius continued, "there I was, bawling my eyes out, and suddenly James comes bursting in, all excited to tell them his news. Your granddad shuffled James out of the room and I guess explained what was going on. Mr. Potter came back a few minutes later and took his seat, as if nothing had happened. He must have told James to stay out of sight because I didn't see him for the rest of the evening. Jess made supper for James and took it up to him in his room.

The Potters let me cry for as long as I needed to. Mr. Potter made me some soup, which was awful by the way, Mrs. Potter whipped up a potion to help with the effects of the _Cruciatus,_ and then they put me to bed. The next day, because I was seventeen and stupid, I did everything I could to avoid your dad. Not only had he seen me moaning to his parents, but I'd ruined his big announcement. I felt weird…embarrassed. The Potters were dying, this horrible war was brewing, and I'd just heaped more misery on them."

"What did Dad do?" Harry asked.

"That is an excellent question, but before I answer, we need to retire to another room," Sirius said. "Hold onto your sandwich. See you later, Buck."

Before he could ask what was going on, Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and popped them into the library. Hermione had explained the experience of apparating, but despite her detailed description, he was in no way prepared for the actual sensation. As he did his best to keep the bits of sandwich he'd consumed in his stomach, Sirius stood and crossed the room. He'd apparated them to the Black Library but he wasn't headed for any of the books, opting instead to lift the needle on a muggle phonograph that had been set up in the room. Seconds later a song began playing…something Harry could vaguely recall hearing before. It was catchy. Sirius plopped back beside him and resumed talking.

"As I said, I was acting like a proper idiot and hiding away, and your father let me be an idiot until supper. I'd decided to have my meal in my room and that apparently was the last straw for your dad. He came up with his own plate and dragged me into his room and told me to sort myself out because we had _research_ to do."

"Research?"

Sirius smiled. "James had overhead Lily telling someone how much better The Beatles were than The Weird Sisters near the end of term. They were new at the time and everyone was raving about them, but apparently Lily wasn't having it. So the first day of break, he went out and bought all of their records. He'd been listening to them nonstop since term ended and wanted me to hear them as well. His whole plan was for us to have a casual conversation around Lily talking about our favorite Beatles album."

Harry smiled. "He sounds desperate."

Sirius laughed. "You have no idea. He and Lily had become friends in sixth year and he was looking for anything and everything he could find to impress her. But fair play to him, we never had to have our staged conversation, but he still got the girl in the end. And we did have several actual discussions about our favorite record, Lily included."

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes as they listened to the music. Harry thought it was quite good, not as good as Oasis, but very catchy.

"You see, Harry, your dad had it figured out. He couldn't do anything about my parents being awful, just like I couldn't do anything about his parents being sick, but whatever we were going through, we were going to go through it together. Now, I can't do anything about you being a part of that blasted prophecy, and I'm awful at making sandwiches. So I let Molly make the sandwich, I'm going to make you listen to The Beatles, and you're going to make me listen to Oasis."

"I only have a cd," Harry replied. "It won't work on that thing."

Sirius looked quite offended. "I know what a cd player is. Lasers, right? Tonks explained it, sort of.

But fear not!" Sirius exclaimed before summoning a bag from across the room. "I had Tonks do some shopping for me." The bag contained a copy of the Oasis record as well as a few smaller records he'd never heard of.

"How long have you had that?" Harry asked.

"Since before you arrived. Tonks told me about Hermione's gift and I was hoping we'd get a chance to listen together. But you've been too busy with your _girlfriend_ ," Sirius said as he pretended to look disgusted.

"Speaking of which," he continued, "you've been a bit of a shit boyfriend lately."

"Hermione is fine," Harry replied, "we just had a bit of an argument. It's better for her anyway; I'm not good company right now."

"First of all, why did you stop eating your sandwich? Secondly, either I'm an awful storyteller or you are an idiot. If the situations were reversed and the prophecy was about Hermione, would you be fine?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but the words didn't come. Just thinking about such a scenario had taken his breath.

"Just because she doesn't cry in front of you, doesn't mean she doesn't need to cry. You going off and hiding might have been fine before, but you two are a couple now. You're meant to cry together, not behind each other's backs."

Sirius was right. He'd been ignoring the voice in his head that had been screaming to him that Hermione would make him feel better, but he was most ashamed to realize that he hadn't even considered the fact that being around him would make Hermione feel better. He moved to stand but was once again stopped by Sirius.

"I'm glad to see you've sorted it out, but Hermione is already talking to her parents. She's officially got the night off from trying to help you, so you're stuck here with me for the next few hours. During that time, I expect you to think up a proper apology and a way to make up your numptyness to your girlfriend. Understood?"

Harry chuckled and slid back down beside Sirius. Between the sandwich, the music, and Sirius' speech he did feel better. Not _good_ …not even close…but better.

"What's the name of this record anyway?"

" _Rubber Soul_."

"I like it. Is it your favorite?"

Sirius shook his head. "Your dad's favorite was _Abbey Road_ and mine was _Revolver_."

"What was Mum's favorite?"

" _Rubber Soul_."

**August 29, 1995**

As he waited for Hermione, Harry did his best to avoid the angry knot that had set up residence in his stomach. It was stupid, really. Even if the idea he had come up was shit, he knew Hermione wouldn't say anything. But now that he had set his plans in motion for the evening, he desperately hoped that Hermione didn't have to pretend that he hadn't mucked it up. His thoughts had continually returned to the scenario that Sirius had planted in his brain the evening prior, and how much worse it would be to be the one sitting on the sidelines, worrying about the prophesied one…or the one sitting next to the bed in the Hospital Wing.

He'd been a truly shit boyfriend. He'd gone out of his way to stick by her side throughout the day but they hadn't been able to be properly alone, and he hadn't been able to manage to say how stupid he'd been with other people around.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice called from the doorway, "Sirius said you wanted to talk to me?" The hopefulness in her voice drove home what a shit boyfriend he had been over the last two days.

"What is that smell?" she asked as she came closer, her eyes widening as she saw the large pizza on a nearby table. "Is that from-"

"The pizza place in Surrey, yeah," Harry interrupted. "Pepperoni and olives. That's your favorite, right?"

Hermione nodded. "When did I tell you that?"

"I, uh, borrowed your mirror this morning and asked your mum."

"How? Why?" was the best that Hermione could manage.

The 'how' would be easy to explain, but Harry knew the 'why' would be much more difficult. He hoped he didn't mess it up.

"I asked Tonks to pick it up for us. You said you liked it and I was trying to come up with a way to help you…like you helped me over the summer. I know you're worried about me and I was stupid for getting mad at you yesterday. I thought…"

Hermione was staring at him and Harry could see that she was doing her best to remain calm…to remain strong…for him.

"I thought it would be better if I left you alone so you wouldn't have to be around me being miserable. But that was stupid because you're miserable too. It was selfish."

His honesty seemed to take her by surprise. She plastered on a falsely pleasant smile. "I'm fine, Harry."

Harry grinned despite himself. "This will go a lot better if you stop being stubborn."

Hermione's façade began to crumble as she remembered their prior conversation. He felt a keen sense of victory at actually helping her for a change. "You're the one being stubborn," she replied, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he admitted.

Apparently he'd said the magic words as she took off in a sprint toward him, burying her head in his shoulder.

"We're going to figure it out," Hermione mumbled into his chest.

"We're going to figure it out, "Harry repeated as he rested his head on her shoulder. He inhaled the scent of her lavender shampoo, instantly calming.

He wasn't quite sure how long they stood there, but Harry didn't mind. She had done so much for him over the years…more than she could ever know. Getting to repay the favor, even just a small bit, felt good. Really, really good.

"I think I've ruined your shirt," Hermione finally managed as she pulled away, gesturing toward the soggy mess that was his right shoulder.

Harry laughed. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

The pizza was a bit lukewarm by the time they got around to digging in but it was still good. As Harry sat there, Hermione embedded into his side and feeding him bites, he couldn't believe how spectacularly wrong he'd gotten it over the last few days. The prophecy hadn't magically disappeared, and he was still just as terrified at what the future held. But right now, at that moment, he was happy. And he had helped make Hermione happy. He resolved to do a much better job of that going forward.

"Harry?" Hermione eventually asked between bites, "is there any reason why we're listening to classical music."

He shrugged. "Umm…I wasn't sure what kind of music you liked. So I guessed."

She laughed. A full-on, proper laugh. "I don't like classical music," she informed, "but thank you for trying."

"Well, what do you like?" he asked.

"I've never cared, really," she answered with a shrug.

"So we can listen to Oasis then? Sirius picked up some other records of theirs and they are-"

"No!" Hermione nearly shouted. "I don't really care, _in general_ , but I know what I don't like."

"Sirius thought they were brilliant."

"Why am I not surprised?" Hermione said as she stood and began filing through the pile of records by the phonograph.

"The Beatles, huh? Dad said they were a bit too soft for his taste. He said the Rolling Stones were better." Based on her expression, she was not a fan of the group.

Harry quickly joined her and changed the music selection. "Is this a Beatles song?" Hermione asked as the record began playing. "I know this one! It's catchy!" she enthused.

"It's from Rubber Soul," Harry supplied, "it was Mum's favorite."

They slumped back into the sofa and didn't move for the next thirty minutes, taking turns feeding each other pizza and listening to the music. At some point, Harry realized that the knot had disappeared. It sparked back to life when he remembered the prophecy, but the knot felt much smaller and much more manageable now thanks to the cold pizza…and Tonks…and Sirius…and Hermione. Unfortunately for him, the music eventually stopped playing and he stood up to put on a new record.

"Harry?" Hermione began as the music resumed, "this night is about making me feel better, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, now confused and concerned that he'd done a bad job so far. Before he could apologize for whatever he'd messed up, she stood and began making her way to the door.

"I'll be right back!" she called, disappearing from sight. A few minutes later she bounded back into the room, holding a large book and pile of parchment. "Sirius said we'll be receiving instruction on this when we get back to Hogwarts," she began, thrusting the book into his hands before leaning back into his side. "I spent last night making notes."

Harry pulled her close and inhaled her lavender shampoo, listening as best he could as she explained Occlumency to him. He fought the urge to stop listening and solely focus on the smell of the shampoo, the feel of Hermione's waist in his hand, and the music filling the air. But this was Hermione's night, and she and Sirius said this was important to learn. So he did his best to listen.

**August 30, 1995**

It had been less than twenty-four hours since his evening with Hermione and Harry was feeling much better. Mrs Weasley had given all of them the day off from decontamination duty due to it being their last day of freedom, and as tempted as he was to while away the day alone with Hermione on their _summer assignments,_ spending the better part of the day listening to music with Ron, Ginny, and the twins had been brilliant. Ron had the right of it, declaring that Oasis was clearly the best of the offered selections. Harry suspected it was simply because they were the loudest and most obnoxious, but considering that was why they were his favorite, that was a totally valid reason. Ginny and Hermione were drawn to The Beatles, with Harry taking special joy in Hermione saying that _Rubber Soul_ was her favorite. Whether it was because they simply wanted to be contrarians or they actually believed it, the twins stubbornly asserted that The Weird Sisters were superior. It was a shit opinion but they were welcome to it.

He couldn't stop grinning as he looked around the table at the final meeting of the Granger Initiative Task Force before their return to Hogwarts. They were now a group of twelve as Molly Weasley had officially been inducted a few minutes prior, giggling as she downed her shot of firewhisky before telling Hermione and him that it was important to be responsible when drinking alcohol, and that they should _definitely_ wait until they were of age to try it.

Professor Flitwick was the only member not present, not privy to the Fidelius secret due to his unwillingness to join the Order. As he thought about the risk his diminutive professor had taken on his behalf…and Hermione's…Harry resolved to learn Occlumency and whatever Advanced Charms instruction the man was willing to offer. It was the least he could do.

"Right. As you all know, this is our last official meeting for a while as we've finally managed to get rid of this lot," Sirius began, gesturing toward them. "So we've got a few things to cover before we're shot of the annoying youngsters. First order of business: Dolores Umbridge."

Half of the table's expression instantly hardened. It was clear that the woman's reputation had most definitely preceded her.

"Dolores is awful," Mr. Weasley began, "she looks down on anything and everything that she feels is beneath her. And if you are not a pureblood who follows the Ministry's guidance, you are beneath her."

Mr. Weasley's comment was met with confirming nods and muttered cursing, the loudest of which in French.

Sirius turned to the half-Veela in amusement. "Have something to share on Miss Umbridge, Fleur?"

Harry had never seen the girl so enraged, her anger fading once Bill leaned over and whispered something in her ear. "She is responsible for the _legislation_ that required my registration at the Ministry. The head of the department, Mr. Dagworth, had refused to enforce the decree, so that harpy took it upon herself to send me the notice informing me of my _obligations._ I would show it to you but I burned it to ash before I'd made it past the first paragraph." The girl folded her arms and sunk into Bill's side, willing herself to remain calm.

"So," Sirius continued with a clap of his hands, "in summary, Umbridge is a foul bitch. She hates anything and anyone that is different from her and is essentially Fudge's attack dog. We're all agreed that she is at Hogwarts to make you and Dumbledore look bad, Harry. Anyone disagree with that assessment?"

Sirius' summary was met with universal murmurs of agreement. Harry was surprised to see that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be the angriest of the group.

"So what does that mean for you, Harry?" Sirius prompted.

"I need to keep my mouth shut and not lose my temper," Harry repeated dully. Sirius and Hermione had taken turns over the last day to remind him of what needed to be done. He knew it would be easier said than done; every time he thought of the woman's simpering voice and mannerisms at the Ministry hearing, his nerves were set on edge, and he'd only been subjected to her for a few minutes. He couldn't quite fathom how he'd manage being subjected to her squeaky nonsense for a full session at Hogwarts.

"And…" Mr. Weasley prompted.

"Make sure Ron keeps his mouth shut as well," Hermione offered, drawing an affirming nod from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Next order of business," Sirius continued, "for those who aren't aware, Harry and Hermione will be receiving advanced instruction in Charms from Professor Flitwick. Filius will be doing a bit more than instructing them on Charms, and it is important that we convince our esteemed Minister and dear, sweet Miss Umbridge that Harry has earned this instruction. Filius, Minnie, and Dumbledore will handle spreading the narrative at Hogwarts, and Harry and Hermione will do their part by being star pupils in Charms, right?"

Hermione nodded immediately and Harry did his best to mimic her actions. Charms had always been relatively easy to master, enough to manage a passing grade at least, but he knew that wouldn't be enough going forward. He felt preemptively exhausted as he thought about how much harder he would have to work next term.

"Arthur, Fleur, and Bill, if the opportunity arises, make sure to say something about how amazing Harry is at Charms. The more we say it at the Ministry and at Gringotts, the more we can spread the word."

"This will be easy," Fleur said. "Harry is a great wizard. He would have to be to defeat me in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, no?"

"It was set up for me to win-"

"No," Fleur interrupted in a tone that brooked no argument. "You outperformed us all in the first task. You rescued my Gabrielle. You saved me _and_ survived the third task even though it was a trap. You are a great wizard and I will not hear different."

After several moments of silence, Sirius spoke. "Uh yeah…so to recap…Arthur and Bill, try to be like Fleur without the wonky accent." Sirius paused as his eyes settled on him, his expression softening.

"Like she said, Harry is a great wizard, the best of us, and I will not hear different."

**August 31, 1995**

As he sank into his seat, Harry did his best to catch his breath. His journey from Grimmauld to the Hogwarts Express seemed like a blur, a whirlwind of emotion and confusion. Mrs. Weasley's tearful goodbye at Grimmauld was matched only by Sirius' equally tearful blubbering as his godfather did his best to repeat his final instructions. Whatever the man had said was lost to time as Harry focused on the strong arms that embraced him…much stronger than they had been on that fateful night at the end of third year. He felt a keen sense of pride at what he and Hermione had accomplished that night. Even Moody's paranoid instructions as they made their way through muggle London to King's Cross seemed a bit softer…a bit more emotional. Sirius had mentioned that there was a 'super-secret' member of GIT whose identity he'd been sworn to secrecy in revealing, but when the grizzled wizard referred to him as 'Harry' while admonishing him for not watching his corners, he was fairly confident that Alastor had signed up for duty.

Little did he know that the tearful goodbyes were only beginning. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were waiting for them on the muggle side of Platform 9 ¾, their arms loaded down with chocolate and even more shopping bags filled with clothes. Apparently Mrs. Granger had decided that he needed proper wizarding accoutrements and recruited Bill and his girlfriend for a trip to Diagon to rectify the matter. Harry had thanked them (again) for their kindness and offered to pay them back (again), but Mr. and Mrs. Granger had waved him off (again), refusing his offer.

Mr. Granger ordered him to keep the offered chocolate on him at all times, lest any more stray dementors find their way to his orbit, and took great pains to inform Harry that he'd had enough time to get the good stuff this time…not the dodgy sweets he'd been able to scrounge up at the Petrol station during their pre-dawn rescue mission. Harry had made a point of sampling a bit for Mr. Granger's benefit before going through the platform. It was delicious, better than any he'd ever tried. He reckoned it had less to do with the quality of the sweet and more to do with the sentiment behind the offering.

His journey had been so inspiring he hadn't even been that bothered to learn that Malfoy had been named a prefect. The git had tried to get a rise out of him multiple times during the prefect meeting, but Harry did his best to ignore him, instead focusing on the soft hand intertwined with his. He'd promised Mrs. Weasley and Hermione that he would do his best not to be so impulsive this year, and if Malfoy wanted to be a shit prefect then that was his problem. Harry had made a promise.

With the meeting finally over, they went in search of their friends, finding Ginny and Ron sitting in a compartment with Neville, along with a rather odd-looking girl he couldn't recall seeing before. She'd tucked her wand behind her ear and was reading a magazine that looked to be upside down. It was very odd.

"You're Harry Potter," the girl stated as he took a seat, her focus immediately returning to her upside-down reading material. Based on Ron and Ginny's bemused expressions he reckoned he'd get the full story on the girl later. Besides, she had a pretty smile and seemed harmless enough.

"Good summer, Neville?" he asked.

"It was great!" the boy enthused. "I got this from Gran for my birthday," he declared as he held up the plant in his lap for inspection.

Harry thought it was a rather sad looking birthday present, all things considered, but kept those thoughts to himself; if Neville liked it, then that was good enough for him. As Neville explained the brilliance that was the _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ , Harry made a point of interjecting with a 'that's cool' or 'neat' from time to time, content to let his friend regale them with the gloriousness of his plant. At some point during Neville's dissertation, Cho Chang and a group of her friends stopped by their compartment. The girl looked like she was going to stop and say hello, but after making a move to open the compartment, Cho frowned and quickly moved along. Harry wasn't sure what had spooked the girl, but something or someone had quickly disavowed the girl of that particular notion. Hermione buried herself a bit further into his side as she asked Neville about his plant, and all thoughts of Cho and her strange behavior faded away.

At some point Neville must have realized that he'd been droning on about his plant a bit longer than he should have and he suddenly stopped. "So," Neville continued awkwardly, "how was your summer?"

Based on Neville's expression the boy immediately regretted asking his question. Given the dementor attack, his subsequent hearing at the Ministry, and the almost daily slagging off that he'd received from the Prophet, it was clear that Neville was worried he'd asked the absolute worst question. Even the odd girl seemed to be interested in his answer, lowering her upside-down magazine and waiting for him to respond.

"It's the best summer I can remember," Harry answered honestly. As he stared out the window his mind briefly returned to the damned prophecy, but he quickly squashed those thoughts down.

They would figure it out. He and Hermione would figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N #1: Hermione is 100% wrong. Oasis is brilliant.
> 
> A/N #2: A/N: If you are a fan of the Harmony pairing I strongly encourage you to join the Discord at discord dot gg/2GcXw8R. It's chock full of great people and is a great resource for finding the best Harry/Hermione fics out there as well as a bunch of smaller stories written by the community, including yours truly.


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